An Assassin's Revenge
by Tiger-Cub684
Summary: It was an ordinary night of gaming, when suddenly, Altair has enough of my non-existant skills and decides to teach me a lesson, Assassin style. How the hell is this happening? Warning: possible course language
1. Chapter 1

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A/n: The usual disclaimers apply

_Chances are, this idea isn't completely original (I haven't read any of the other stories in this fandom, so I don't know) but I don't care. This is simply a lighthearted __humorous _look at what would happen if Altair got sick my unintentional abuse. And I call myself a gamer. For shame. 

_(and yes, the narrating chararcter is a self insert. Don't bother trying to cry "mary sue", because that's non applicable in this situation)_

* * *

Part 1

The lights from the screen lit up the dark room, a black Xbox 360 console hummed with activity, and a condescending brown cat slept on the couch as I sat in my gaming chair (aka, my bean bag) and furiously mashed the buttons on the controller.

"No, jump, dodge, hit him, oh my god why the hell are you so slow you piece of shit!" I yelled rapidly at the screen, "Freaking guards, why are there so damn many of you?"

The white-hooded man on the screen turned sluggishly to counter attack a guard, just in time, but was too slow to avoid the other three right behind him.

"God damn it!" I yelled.

A good minute of chain-swearing later, I sighed dejectedly at the loading screen.

"Stupid assassin! Why do you have to bloody die all the time! And where the hell do all the guards come from? It's like they're all hanging out together in some stupid guard club or something." I remarked, talking to myself as usual. My whole family was out god-knows-where. I don't usually pay attention to stuff like that.

Finally, the blue flashing background faded and the assassin reappeared on the dimly lit rooftop. "About bloody time,"

I could've sworn Altair glanced at me at that moment. But I was probably just imagining things.

"Ok, now to climb up to that other rooftop, and jump onto the roof of the church. This should be easy," I pushed the appropriate buttons on the Xbox controller, pressing forward on the d-pad and holding the right trigger while pressing X to climb up the ladder and jump faster.

After a few frustrating attempts and random jumping off the ladder and starting again, I finally got him up there.

"And now time to jump," I used the same combo of buttons and forced him off the roof.

He didn't even make it half way to the church.

Needless to say, falling 50 feet was another instant kill.

"God damn it!" I swore, tempted to hurl my controller at the TV. Even the Wii never gave me this much stress. They picked the wrong control to attach a wrist strap.

The condescending voice of the Animus lady kindly reminded me that I could distract guards by stealth killing someone, or pushing them off a roof. Yes, very helpful. Exactly why I had just died.

A few more annoying moments passed and the loading screen cleared. But this time, it wasn't what I expected.

"That's it, I can't take this anymore," a voice which sounded strangely like an angry version of Altair announced. Except that Altair or Desmond never sounded angry. They never seemed to have any emotion at all.

"You are a moron," the voice replied again. I stared disbelievingly at the screen. Altair had turned around (on his own accord) and was pointing his finger at me accusingly. This couldn't be happening, right?

"What the hell is the matter with you? Yes, I'm talking to you, in the bean bag. Don't pretend like you can't hear me," He lectured me further.

I was stunned. I couldn't physically move.

"What's with you trying to make me fucking jump a 30 metre gap? It's fucking 30 metres! No one can jump that far. Are you an idiot?"

I can honestly say I've never had this happen to me before in my life. Like, ever.

"And with guards, god, could you be less obvious? Why do you make me kill guards right in front of other guards? Of course it's going to attract attention. Are you retarded, you stupid bitch?"

Finally, I regained my voice. "What the hell is going on?"

"You want to know what's going on? I'll tell you what's going on. I'm sick of you and your shitty orders. You're totally incompetent, and have no appreciation for how difficult all this shit is. None what so ever."

"…but all I do is press X to jump…"

Altair groaned in frustration. "No, you're not getting it. I guess I'll have to show you what this is like," and with those words, he leapt at me.

After he amazingly managed to stop the camera's fixation on him, and he disappeared from the screen, I thought he was gone for good. But how? And where? And why the hell was I talking to a video game character?

But my thoughts were interrupted as a pair of hands suddenly gripped the bottom of my TV screen, and the assassin pulled himself into my living room.

"What the – how the hell did you do that?" I asked, dropping the controller in surprise.

"You're coming with me," he replied, grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me along.

"Wait! How is this happening!?" I cried, as he pushed me into the TV. I closed my eyes and braced myself to crash painfully into the glass and plastic picture box, but instead landed with a thud on a sandy concrete surface. My eyes flew open and I realised I wasn't in Kansas - I mean, my living room, anymore.

A set of lighter thuds landed next to me. I looked up. There stood Altair, looking pretty pleased with himself.

"Now you're going to learn just how hard my life is, missy," he said smugly.

I leapt to my feet and shoved the tall (but only a bit taller than me) man. "What the hell is this? You're not real! Is this some sort of abusive dream? Did I get drunk and fall asleep without knowing it? Tell me! I want answers!" I demanded.

Altair just shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I don't know how this place works. It just is,"

His answer wasn't very helpful. "This has got to be some sort of weird dream," I sighed.

"Well, do you usually dream about me?" He replied, unhelpfully.

I glared at him. He didn't seem this smug in the game. And wether or not I regularly dreamt about the ruggedly handsome assassin was completely irrelevant.

I suddenly noticed something strange with the sky. "What the hell is that?" I asked. It was like a large window…showing my empty living room. My cat yawned obliviously from the couch and rolled over.

"That's your house, isn't it?" Altair replied.

"Yes, I can see that. But what is it doing there?" I asked.  
"You didn't think the whole camera thing was only one-way, did you?"

"So you could see me the whole time?"

"Of course,"

"But, doesn't everyone notice the bloody great window hanging in the sky? Don't they think it strange?" I asked, gesturing to the people mulling around on the ground below us.

"No, they can't see it. Only I can…and, I guess, you. Which is probably because you're from the other side,"

"So you could come into the real world all this time?"

Altair shrugged. "I don't know. I never tried it. Until you pissed me off enough to try, that is. Bitch,"

My head was still reeling with all the new information. Just trying to comprehend that I was in a video game was giving me a headache. So I decided not to think about it.

My clothes felt heavier. I looked and realised, I wasn't wearing my normal clothes.

"Ok, what's up with the robe?" I asked, tugging at the leather belt, which I realised held a knife.

"Well, we can't have you running around Jerusalem looking like an outsider," Altair replied.

"So, I'm dressed like an assassin?"

"And you're probably the first female to do so. You should be honoured." He assured me.

"Probably?"

"There are few others I'm not sure about. They could just be men with effeminate voices. I don't get to see their faces. Or other body parts." He explained.

I rolled my eyes. "Ok, but how did I get in these clothes. You didn't knock me out and undress me at any point, did you?"

Altair laughed. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. It was probably magic."

"Right. Magic. Because that's way more believable."

"Probably the same magic that's enabled you to enter a video game,"

"…I suppose you have a point," I replied.

"Of course I do. I have many points. I'm an assassin," he replied, extending the hidden blade from his wrist-cuff in emphasis.

I sighed. I'd had no idea he was such a fan of bad puns. "You know, you're very different to how you are in the cut scenes,"

"Yes well, we can't all be 'on' all the time. Speaking of which, I've got to get back to the mission. Come on,"

"Wait, I'm not going anywhere," I replied stubbornly.

"Yes you are, or would you rather just roam this misogynistic assassin-hating city on your own?" he suggested.

"…ok then, let's go,"

* * *

_Part 2 on it's way. I hope you enjoyed my attempts at humour (spelled with a U, as it's supposed to be). XD_

_R&R If you wish._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/n: __Wow, thanks for the reviews guys. You all seriously rock :D_

_Now that I've got readers, I feel under pressure that I shouldn't suck. Lol. I hope you continue to enjoy my little story. _

_(Oh, and just so you know, the events in the story aren't going to follow those in the game. I've switched things around, and created a new assassin target. Just FYI.)_

* * *

Part 2

Jerusalem, or at least the game's version of it, was a lot different to what I thought it would be. Mind you, I'd never actually been there (and considering the time difference, I imagine it would be unrecognisable even if I had. I hear they have electricity now), and it's certainly not the city I had imagined from reading the Bible (what of it that I actually did read). Of course, that's not really saying much for a book that has no pictures. World best seller or not, that dreary piece of literature could use a few illustrations. (Oh, sorry, that dreary _historical account_, or whatever). (My point's still valid).

I struggled to match the assassin's pace. For a guy in robes, he could move pretty fast. I tried to keep my head down as we passed through the crowded streets. People were giving me weird looks otherwise. I probably should've brushed my hair before this venture. Not that I was given any warning, or anything.

Suddenly, out of no where, the annoying beggar woman whom I had seen oh so many god damn times before appeared typically out of nowhere and ran up to Altair, which stopped him enough for me to catch up.

"Please sir, I have nothing. My family are sick and hungry. Can't you spare a few coins?" she pleaded, in her annoying and historically inaccurate cockney accent (I mean, we're in Jerusalem for Christs sake!).

Altair simply ignored her, avoided eye contact, and pushed past the woman, who seriously looked like she was long overdue for a bath.

But, as always, the woman was damn persistent.

"Please sir! You don't understand. I have nothing!"

"Get out of my way!" Altair replied, firmly pushing her to the side.

I felt a tug of sympathy for the beggar woman. She did indeed seem like she was genuinely homeless. But I had doubts about the existence of her needy family.

I searched my new robes and found a coin pouch. Having no idea what the currency here was, if I had the right coins, or even what any of it was worth, I fished out the first coin I could curl my fingers around and gave it to the woman, who seemed surprised at my gesture and quickly scampered away, in case I changed my mind.

Altair looked back at me. "That was pointless, you know. There are too many homeless people in the city. You can't help them all. And that one coin will only be able to buy her one meal."

"That maybe so, but I'll bet she doesn't think it's pointless," I replied.

"Maybe more people would care if she wasn't so annoying," he remarked.

"Maybe she's annoying because more people don't care," I shot back.

"What are you? Sigmund Freud?"

"How do you know about Freud? He isn't born for centuries!" I replied.

Altair shrugged. "Just because I live in the tenth century doesn't mean I know about things from your time. You forget the developers of the game are modern day people,"

"So you know what the developers know?"

"Bits of it. I'd hardly say I'm an expert. All I know comes from the production notes. Fraid came up in the character descriptions. Apparently my dog-like obedience is due to some sort of _suppressed trauma from my youth and my issue with my father_." He explained sceptically.

I blinked. "…do you even know your father?"

"I don't even know his name. Maybe that's problem,"

I couldn't help but smile. It was interesting to know just how much Altair was aware that he was indeed a fictional video game character.

"So you also realise that there's probably going to be some big twist in the end where Al Mualim turns out to be the bad guy, right?" I said.

"I've had my suspicions. Why do you think I hate him so much? I only listen to him so I can get my assassin skills and weapons back. I have no real loyalty to him," Altair replied, "How do you know, anyway?"

"Internet forums. But I don't know if it's true yet. I didn't want to ruin the game and read all the spoilers. I had intended to play this through and find out. But this isn't exactly what I had in mind,"

"Maybe if you hadn't been so stupid and tactless, I wouldn't have been forced to drag you in here," he remarked.

I sighed. "Again with that? Can't you just get over it? So, you died a few times – "

"More like a few hundred times," He interrupted bitterly.

"It's not like it's permanent. You come back to life instantly. What's the big deal?" I shrugged.

"Just because I can't really die doesn't mean I don't feel pain. I'm not a robot,"

"No, you're a bunch of pixels in a video game," I reminded him.

"A bunch of pixels that can feel." He added.

"And talk back, apparently,"

"And also stab annoying real-world girls who don't know how to block a simple lunge," He narrowed his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes. No, stop fangirling!

"Hey, you're holding the sword," I replied smugly.

He just glared. Ah ha! I had won again.

"Come on, I don't have time for this," he growled and resumed stalking through the crowd.

"Just because you're losing." I muttered, running after him.

Finally, he stopped at the corner of a courtyard.

"Why aren't we on the roof, anyway? It's so much easier than walking…at least it was…maybe walking is a better idea," I rambled on, once I had caught up.

"Shh," he silenced me, focusing on the scene near the fountain. Two men were talking. Great. An eavesdropping mission. Always so thrilling.

"Follow me to the bench and don't say anything. We can't let them know we're listening," Altair instructed,

I nodded and followed his lead, making our way to the conveniently placed bench at the wall. The people already sitting on the ends of the bench seemed to be staring out into space. I waved my hand in front of the guy next to me. Nothing. Another reminder that I wasn't in the real world.

"What do we do?" I asked Altair.

"Just focus on the people and you'll be able to hear them," he replied, staring at the two suspicious men. It was strange seeing this from a third person angle, rather than Altair's perspective. And also not as useful. As much as I tried to focus on the people, I couldn't zoom in and hear their voices, like I could when playing the game. Another fallback of actually being here, I supposed.

"I can't hear a thing," I told him.

Altair shooshed me again. Apparently, _he _could hear.

After a few minutes of twiddling my thumbs and staring at ants crawling along the ground (it's amazing the amount of detail they put into the game), Altair sat back, and the two men parted ways.

"So, what did they say?" I asked.

"They were talking about how Tailium likes to spend the most of his time in his library." He replied.

"Is that helpful?"

"I don't know. It could mean that's where I'll have to go to kill him."

"Seems strange,"

"It always seems strange. They're Templars. That's how it is. But at least if this guy's in the library, he shouldn't be heavily guarded. That should make my job easier,"

"Unless it's the world's biggest library and he's got guards stationed every five metres." I suggested.  
Altair gave me a funny look. "I sure hope not. Why would they want to station guards outside a library anyway? What's going to happen? Are they afraid people will steal the books?" He replied sarcastically, "Oh no, not the books,"

"Hey, books are awesome. And besides, didn't that last guy in Damascus have a crusade against books, because they were filling the people's heads with lies, or something like that?" I reminded him.

"Yes, but he was insane. Just like almost every other target. Sometimes I seriously wonder how they came into power in the first place."

"Hey, sounds just like the real world," I replied, "If there's one thing I've learned about politics, it's that everyone is an idiot. Or a criminal. Or sometimes both,"

"I guess politics is the same everywhere." He remarked, "But we'd better be going now,"

"Again? Don't we ever get a break? Not even a lunch hour?" I pleaded.

He raised an eyebrow. "You've only been here fifteen minutes. Are you tired already?"

"…I'm a uni student gamer on holidays. Not exactly as fit as an athlete," I replied, crossing my arms self-consciously.

"Well that's bad news for you, because we don't have time for breaks. So you'd better get used to it," He told me unsympathetically.

It was my turn to narrow my eyes, "I hate you,"

"Don't care. Now hurry up," he shot back, and ran back into the crowd.

Bloody assassin.

* * *

_And there we have it, part 2. I'm trying to write these chapters in advance so I don't leave it for months on end, like I've done with most all my other stories on here. But it does mean that part 3 is almost ready to post, so there shouldn't be too much of a wait for it, in case you were wondering. _

_Review and let me know what you think. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/n: Once again, I would just like to say you are all awesome people. I didn't not expect so many of you to like my little story, and the reviews have been wonderful. Thank you :D_

_(And I hope you continue to like my future chapters. I'd hate to let you down)_

* * *

Part 3

Altair took me on a three hour marathon, or so it would seem, as we ran through streets, jumped up (or in my case, struggled up) buildings and made death defying leaps all over the city in an aimless fashion. I came to this realisation after we had passed the same merchant stall five times (jumping through it each time, of course). By the end, he had given up yelling at us for ruining his rugs, and just sat there, loudly sighing as we approached.

Although there's every chance that it was always a different guy. One of my favourite things to do when playing was to terrorise merchants.

Except now, they had the option to chase after me.

I finally managed to stop Altair in his inane race around the city. Well, more like I ran into him when he stopped suddenly.

"What the hell, Altair?" I asked in between gasps of air, "What was the point of all that? We just lapped Jerusalem like five times!"

He shooshed me (a gesture that was beginning to get on my nerves) and pushed me behind the corner of the building.

"Why don't you answer my questions?" I shoved him back.

Caught off guard, Altair stumbled into the street.

Moments later, I heard the sound that I had come to dread. "There he is! Assassin! Get him!" Cried a guard.

Before I could blink, about eight of the bastards had appeared, swords at the ready.

"And he's with another!" another guard cried, walking over in my direction. I backed away, and bumped into Altair, who almost cut my head off in a reflex reaction.

But I was too worried about the other eight sword-wielding psychopaths to care.

"What do we do?" I asked desperately. It couldn't end like this, right? If I die in the game, would I come back like Altair? Or will I die for real?

"Pull out your sword!" he barked, retaking a defensive stance to the circle of guards that was closing in.

I searched my belt and found an attached blade sitting in its sheath. I was wondering how robes could be so heavy.

I struggled to pull out the sword. For some reason, they had overlooked old-school armed combat in the high school curriculum. But eventually, I managed to get it free.

I held the blade defensively, copying Altair. I had no idea how to use this thing. I had only ever done so in video games. And there's nothing further from a sword than an Xbox controller or computer keyboard. I was doomed.

The guards began to circle, like sharks. Evil sharks. With turbans and bad fashion sense. Oh, and deadly weapons along with the skills to use them. I sent a pleading look to Altair. Surely he'd know what to do.

"Use your instincts and block their blades," he told me, "No matter what, don't let them cut you. And don't be afraid to resort to dirty tactics,"

Yeah, that's _great_ advice. If I don't know how to attack with a sword, I must know how to defend with one. Oh, and 'don't let them cut you'? Really now? I was just going to sit here and let them hack away.

I got the feeling Altair didn't regularly work with newbies. Other than when they played him, of course.

The first guard came swinging at me. I closed my eyes in fear and braced myself for the impact. Perhaps his "don't let them cut you" advice was good after all. Not that I was in any position to listen. I felt frozen, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Or eight.

I waited, but there was no pain, no sharp knock to my skull, nothing. I opened my eyes and found that Altair had jumped in and blocked him. He kicked the guard in the stomach and skewered him with the sword. Although I had seen it many times before, seeing it up close was nauseating.

But no time to throw up, as a second guard stepped in. He lunged at Altair, who swiftly dodged the attack and knocked him on the back of the neck with his hilt. The man collapsed in a heap on the ground, his neck broken.

One of the other guards took advantage of the distraction and brought his sword back to swing at me. I caught the movement in my peripheral vision and jumped out the way, kicking him hard in the shins. I then whacked the back of his knees with the flat side of my blade and he fell to the ground in pain. Altair stepped over the body of his latest victim and finished my guard off.

The last three guards stepped back, a mixture of disgust and fear on their faces.

Altair looked in their direction and they fled, madly dashing into the streets.

I could just imagine the little "reinitializing" message popping up.

"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" Altair remarked, wiping his blade clean on the robes of the dead.

All I could do was shake my head. My knees felt weak, and my late lunch was threatening to come back up. Five men had just died, right in front of my eyes. I had even helped.

The assassin seemed to read what I was thinking. "Don't feel bad for them. They would've tried to kill you at all costs. And besides, they're just pixels, remember? Not real men,"

"They look pretty damn real to me," I replied, watching the growing pool of blood form from under the pile.

"Come on, we need to get out of here before more come," he reminded me. I allowed him to pull me away from the scene.

"You'd really make a lousy assassin," Said Altair, as we walked through the now deserted streets. The citizens had apparently had the good sense to hide when a fight broke out.

I managed to find my voice again. "Good thing that's not what I was going for,"

"What do you want to do, then?" he continued the conversation, probably sensing that it was best to change the subject from our recent brush with death.

I shrugged. "I dunno. I was thinking of being a vet. You know, animal doctor,"

"You have doctors for animals in your time?"

"Of course,"

"Interesting. Where I grew up, according to my character profile sheet at least, we would just charge the doctor extra to look at horses or dogs. But they were about as useful as they are with people," He explained, "So basically the patient has about a fifty fifty chance of surviving."

I couldn't help but laugh, as depressing as those odds were. I could see he was trying to cheer me up, in his own twisted way.

The weak joke helped me to shake off the shock of the slaughter. My mind kicked back into gear. "So, what was with all the running before?" I asked.

"You looked like you could use the exercise," he shrugged.

I crossed my arms sternly. "Hilarious. But seriously, why all the running?"

"I was…looking for more missions. I, er, can't see the little mini map with the blinking icons." He admitted.

"Ha, so there _are_ some things you need me for," I replied smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get it over with. It's just one little thing," He tried to play it down.

"A little thing? Are you kidding? You're lost without my guidance, aren't you?"

"I don't know if I'd go that far,"

"Oh really? What are we supposed to do next then?" I asked.

Altair hesitated. "Um…go to the Bureau?"

"Wrong!" I replied, a little more enthusiastically than I had intended, "You have at least two more information missions left. Not to mention a view point to find. Good thing I have a photographic memory,"

He looked somewhat irritated that I had the upper hand. "Ok then, where's the closest one?"

I looked around me. We were standing at the crossroads of some streets. But other than that, I couldn't recognise anything else. I sighed. I had absolutely no idea where we were.

Altair seemed to guess what I was thinking, again. I wondered if perhaps he had some sort of telepathy…or perhaps it was just an assassin skill to know how to read people. Yeah, that sounded more likely.

"You have no idea, do you?" He remarked.

"Yeah, well, it's a big city." I defended myself.

"Do you even know which district this is?" He asked, with that smug little smile again.

"Um…the rich one?" I guessed.

The smile fell from his face. "Lucky guess,"

Ha, what do you know? I guess 1/3 are pretty good odds.

"But, do you know where we're supposed to be next?" He asked, trying to regain his authority.

I rolled my eyes. Another thing the game had failed to convey was his massive ego.

"No, Altair, I have no clue. But from that smug look, I'm guessing you do, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes I do,"

"And how, pray tell, did you find out in the last two minutes since I last asked you that question?" I continued.

Altair flashed me a smile, not a smug one, but one that still said "_Ha, I know more than you_,".

"Rule number one, follow the eagles," he replied simply.

I shot him a confused look. "What? What do eagles have to do with anything?"

Altair pointed behind me. I looked back and saw an eagle soaring high in the sky. It drifted over us and soared over to an impossibly tall tower, where it circled twice before settling on a wooden platform at the top. The last view point in Jerusalem.

"Great. Do you think the eagle will tell us where the last two missions are as well?" I asked sarcastically.

Altair ignored me and ran past me to jump onto a scaffold, and then propel himself onto the rooftops. "Come on," he called back.

"Come on," I mocked to myself. "Stupid eagles. Just because they can fly."

* * *

_I'm up to the last major assassination in the game (in real life), and Assassin's Creed 2 is sitting patiently on my coffee table, waiting for me to hurry up and finish. But I've decided to hold off on the game until I work out more of where I'm going with this fic. I think I have the rest of it basically planned out, but there are a few details I need to work out first, and I get the feeling I'll probably borrow a bit from the game's actual ending for my ending, and since I'm not up to writing that, I might as well wait. _

_This basically means I'll be concentrating more on writing this so I can get back to the game. Lol. Just the sort of motivation I need. Chapter 4 was almost done, but I've changed my mind about some things and it shall be revised. _

_I have a new policy of not updating until the following chapter is near completion. For you that means that, with luck, there shouldn't be too much of a delay for the next instalment (although I don't know how long I'll be able to keep up the pace I've already set). The only thing that could delay a chapter at this point is my job. I apologise if that happens, but I need the money. I'm trying to buy a new PC. _

_Oh yeah, review if you liked this chapter. Or review even if you didn't, just to let me know what's wrong. Either way, feedback is always appreciated (as long as it's constructive, if it's critical). _


	4. Chapter 4

_A/n: __I've decided to go with a "two updates a week" schedule. I know some of you may be used to more frequent ones from other stories or whatever, but I'm not a writing machine (unfortunately) and I need to be realistic, because while I have the next couple of chapters done already, I know that in a week's time or so, I'll probably have run out of momentum completely. And because I don't want to let this story sit here for the next 6 months with no updates, (like I have with pretty much every other story I've ever started) (as well as my art projects), I'm going with the "write a bunch and horde chapters, then gradually release them" approach. It seems to work well for me (works for my web comic, anyway)._

_Anyway, thanks heaps to everyone who's been reviewing. You guys are really the best :D_

* * *

Part 4

Finally, we were standing on the roof of the church which I had failed to make Altair reach earlier that night. The one where he had fallen to his death (again), and consequently snapped and pulled me into this freakshow.

Turns out, you were supposed to climb up the ladder on the side. Woops. My bad.

When I had first seen the tower, down the streets, I thought it was close, because it looked so big. But it turns out that it was actually very far away. The tower is just fucking huge. It makes the church next to it look like a little Monopoly house. The roof is certainly red enough.

"So, you do this all the time?" I asked the assassin next to me. Altair was busy sharpening his blades while I caught my breath.

"Of course. Scouting locations is one of the most important tasks in my job. It's prudent to know well the lay out of the city. It makes for quick escapes later."

"Did you always want to be an assassin?"

I caught him off guard. "I – I never really had any choice in the matter." He admitted.

"You were forced into this?" I asked. I realised that I didn't really know anything about Altair other than what little I had discovered through the game.

"Not so much forced, I just wasn't really given any other options," he explained, "I was raised by the Brotherhood. My father was an assassin (or so I'm told), his father was an assassin, his grandfather was an assassin, and so fourth. It's in my blood,"

"Wow, it's in your blood to spill the blood of others. That's kind of…sad. One hell of a legacy, though," I remarked darkly.

Altair shook his head. "It's not just about the killing. We're working for a higher cause. The greater good, and all that,"

"Strange, it sounds just like what the Templars say," I mused.

"No! Do not compare me to those criminals! The Templars only seek to control the world. We fight to free it from their grasp." Altair replied angrily. He gripped his short blade tightly. I had hit a nerve.

"Ok, ok, I believe you. Templars are scum and all that," I backed away defensively. Did he really buy into that whole story? Or was he angry about something else?

Altair went back to sharpening his hidden blade with a whetstone.

"So, I guess assassinating really _is_ in your blood. Runs in the family. You know, with it continuing in the future and all that," I tried to move the conversation along, watching as he carefully grinded the blade into a deadly point. I sure wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of _that_.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking up.

"You know, with Desmond. You _do_ know about Desmond, right?" I asked, hoping I hadn't said too much and broken one of those rules about not saying too much about the future when you're travelling to the past, if it even applied in this situation.

"Oh right, my descendent from your time. I guess it does continue to run in the family," Altair agreed.

I sighed in relief. I had always wondered what happened if you broke that rule. Would the world suddenly explode? Would I come back to my time and find that clocks were square and the French had taken over the world? Wait, I'm in a game, not the actual past. So there wouldn't be any repercussions even if I had said too much, right?

"Yeah, and with Ezio too," I continued my train of thought.  
"Ezio? Who's that?" Altair asked.  
"You know, he's your Italian descendant in the Renaissance. In the game's sequel," I chirped enthusiastically.

"There's a sequel?"

Shit. I think I just broke the rule. "…um yeah, they've made a sequel to this game. It just came out,"

"And I'm not in it?"

"No. I guess they had explored all they could with your character…or something," I mumbled.

Altair suddenly seemed lost. "…so I don't have another game."

"I guess not. Shit, are you alright?" I put a comforting hand on the assassin. The colour seemed to have drained from his face. It was as it someone had just told him that they had just cancelled Christmas…for the next ten years.

It took a few moments before he finally replied. "I'm ok,"

"Are you sure?"

He sighed.

"What is it?" I asked,

"Nothing," he said bluntly.  
"It's clearly not nothing. What's wrong Altair?"

"It's just…what am I supposed to do after all this?" he asked.

I hadn't thought of it before. "I dunno. What happens at the end of the game? I'm pretty sure you don't die, otherwise I'd probably know about it by now. Maybe you can just continue your life, after the credits." I rambled.

"Life after the credits?" he repeated in disbelief.

I shrugged. "Why not? I mean, at the very least, you'll have to get married and have some kids, right? Otherwise, how else would you have all those descendants? And it doesn't look like you're going to get any romance between now and the credits, so why not after?" I reasoned.

"Hmm, interesting…" Altair seemed intrigued by my logic.

"I mean, you had a life before the game, right?"

"I guess. Not that I can really exist without the game, but I do have memories of life before the events of the game," he remarked.

"So there you are; you'll have a life after it too. See, just because you're not in the sequel doesn't mean this is the end. I'm sure once all this is over it'll be much better anyway. Less danger," I added, "For one, I won't be able to drive you off tall buildings anymore."

Altair smiled. "That's true. And you won't be able to lead me into packs of angry guards, either."

"Yeah, I get it, I'm crappy at the game." I rolled my eyes. At least he seemed to have cheered up a bit.

"Come on, we've come all this way. Time to take this last view point," Altair brought us back to why we were standing on the church roof in the first place.

I studied the adjacent tower carefully. It was still pretty damn high.

"Ladies first," Altair nodded to the tower.

I backed away. "Are you sure? Maybe you should just go up on your own. I haven't done any rock climbing in years. I'd just be slowing you down,"

"Don't be stupid. I promised myself I'd show you what it's like in the game, and climbing towers is one of the things I do," he reminded me. It would be nicer if he had voiced this revelation to me earlier. "It's easy. Go ahead."

I sighed and reached for the first hand-hold. It was some sort of plaque. "Are you sure?" I looked back. I really didn't want to do this.

"You'll be fine." He assured me, "Just reach for the stone sticking out in the wall and pull yourself up. It's like this tower was made to be climbed. There's plenty of hand-holds."

"It probably _was_ made to be climbed," I muttered, as I pulled myself up to the next stone.

A few minutes later, I was god-knows how high up the tower and utterly exhausted. Propelling your own body weight up against gravity was certainly much harder than it looked, especially when your hands were more used to grasping pencils and game controllers, rather than rocks and holding on for dear life. Altair made it look all too easy. Luckily, he was also surprisingly patient, as he didn't snap or tell me hurry up and just kept the glacial pace below me.

You know that advice that they always give in the movies and such? 'Don't look down'? Well it's damn good advice. Unfortunately, I was stupid enough to forget that fact. I looked down, and immediately which I hadn't.

I wouldn't say I'm bad with heights, but when you're up 40 metres or whatever on the side of a stone tower, on some insane rock-climbing venture with no harness or safety net, and gravity calling your name, no one is good with heights.

In what could only be described as a bout of vertigo, I saw how far away the ground was and how tiny all the little patrolling guards were and instantly felt dizzy. I felt like throwing up again and my hands became weak. I couldn't hold on anymore.

Suddenly, I dropped away, falling from the tower with the ground quickly rushing towards me. It felt like an eternity, but then again, time looses all meaning when your life is flashing before your eyes. But my free fall was disrupted, when a hand shot out and grabbed the cuff of my robes.

Altair had saved me again.

"Grab on!" He commanded. I had to actually open my eyes to realise what was happening. I didn't hesitate to throw my arms around his neck as he lifted me up.

"Don't choke the person holding you up," he replied. I quickly rearranged my grip and used my legs to hold on around his waist. I'd just been saved from falling and I wasn't about to repeat the experience.

Amazingly, Altair seemed to scale the tower even faster with me on his back than on his own. I've got to give him credit here; he's a lot stronger than he looks. And apparently has Spiderman-hands.

* * *

_This chapter was originally going to be longer, but once I hit 7 pages, I decided to split it into two separate parts (in the spirit of being manageably consistent). So the next chapter is thus already finished. (And I love it so much; I can't wait to post it) (but I'm waiting until Monday because I'm a bitch…no, it's due to my new pacing policy. Sorry)(maybe that still makes me a bitch…you be the judge)_

_Review and I might push the update to Sunday. :D (or Saturday, if you're in America, since you yanks are behind me in the timezone. I'M SENDING THIS FROM THE FUTURE!) XD_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/n:__ Ah, my favourite chapter yet. I'm having so much fun with this story. :D _

_Thanks again to all you fantastic reviewers. Words cannot describe how awesome you are. But I'm hoping these smilies will ;D_

* * *

Part 5

Finally, we reached a balcony. He climbed over and I jumped off, landing uneasily on the narrow terrace. My hands were still shaking from the shock of falling. If the guards don't get me, and I manage to avoid sky diving _sans_ parachute again, my next likely cause of death here would be heart attack.

I curled up and tried to go to my happy place, with all the frolicking unicorns and Jigglypuffs. But I was too shocked even for that.

"Are you alright?" Altair asked me.

I took a deep breath and replied, "I think so,"

"Good. Not far left to go now,"

I looked up at the remaining tower. "You want me to try again?" I asked in disbelief.

"It's only a few metres, and if you fall, you'll just land back here, not the ground. The worst that could happen is you dislocate a shoulder or something,"

Strangely enough, that wasn't very comforting. "I've already dislocated a shoulder this year; I'm not doing it again!"

"Don't worry, you won't fall. I'll be there to catch you," Altair assured me, "Now come on, we don't have all day,"

This time, he started climbing first. I very much doubted his abilities to stop me from falling in this position, but he was already too high up for me to protest. Hesitantly, I reached out for the conveniently placed window and began to pull myself up, my muscles protesting at the unnatural activity.

Amazingly, I made it. Altair had stopped at the top and moved over to the side, waiting for me.

"Why are we just hanging here?" I asked, eager to get back on solid ground again.

He shooshed me and nodded to the platform. I craned my neck and saw a patrolling guard pacing back and fourth around the platform. Great, more trouble.

"Tell me when he's just past us," Altair instructed.

I watched the guard through the gaps in between the stone battlements.

"Now," I whispered to Altair. He nodded and launched himself over the final wall. I watched as he jumped onto the guard's back and stuck the hidden blade in his neck. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Altair offered me his non-bloody hand and helped pull me over onto the platform. I took in my surroundings. The climb had certainly been worth it. Jerusalem spread out below me, against a stunning backdrop of the hills and peach-coloured sky of the afternoon.

"Wow, that's one hell of a view," I remarked aloud, "Kinda romantic,"

"Sure, except for the dead body," Altair replied.

I looked back over to the fallen guard. "Yeah, I guess he _is_ a bit of a mood killer,"

The view also reminded me of how high up we were, and just how far we had climbed. Shit, I can't believe I survived.

"How can you be so good at all that climbing? I felt like I was going to slip several times," I exclaimed.

Altair shrugged. "It's what I do,"

I grabbed his left hand and examined it, tracing the underside with my fingers. It was as rough as a cat's tongue.

"Wow, no wonder you have such good grip," I remarked. I guess they don't have moisturiser in this time.

Altair seemed uncomfortable at this level of contact.

I reached the stub where his ring finger used to be, and he pulled his hand away suddenly. Oops. Guess I had crossed that line again. I should really stop doing that.

"Sorry," I apologised.

Altair faced the cityscape and shrugged it off, "Don't worry about it,"

An awkward silence settled and I studied my fingernails intently. The black nail polish was beginning to chip. I would have to redo them when I got back. And it's a good thing I cut them back really short the other day, otherwise I probably would've broke one with all the climbing. I hate having uneven nails.

"I appreciate what you said before," Altair interrupted my menial chain of thought, "But you're wrong about my having descendants necessarily meaning I'll find love."

"What are you talking about? Isn't that how it usually works?" I asked, wondering where he was going with all this, "Kids don't just pop out of thin air...unless they do here. Is that what you're saying?"

"No, they don't, but sex and love are two different things," he explained, "I could just as easily end up knocking up a prostitute before my early grave."

Now that's something I'd never thought I'd ever hear him say. Like, ever. "Don't be silly," I replied, "You're not destined for an early grave, I'm sure of it. And do they even _have_ prostitutes in the Holy Land?"

Altair gave me an odd look. "Are you kidding? What do you think we're standing on?"

"…a tower?"

"Next to the tower,"

"…a church?"

"On weekends, sure, but during the rest of the time, this place is a brothel." He explained.

"…wait, the church doubles as a whore-house?" I asked in disbelief.

"Of course."

"…does the Pope know about this?"

"Who do you think runs it?"

"…so you're telling me the Pope is a pimp…"

"Of course. How else do you think the Church became so rich? They only get so many donations."

I couldn't believe it. All my previous jokes about Christianity had suddenly become 20% more effective. "…shit, I had no idea,"

"I don't know if it's the same in your world, though," he replied, "It could just be a joke the developers wrote in here, but yeah, right below our feet there are about a hundred loose men and women, busy working away,"

I suddenly felt dirty. Right below my feet? Jesus. Speaking of which, what the hell would He say at something like this? And to think He got pissed at people selling oranges in the church, or whatever, in that bible story. I'd hate to see His reaction here.

"Are you sure?" I asked

"Yes. I've seen it myself." Altair confirmed.

"…wait, when you say you've seen it, you don't mean – "

"No, I can't afford to on my pitiful wage." He laughed.

"Oh…so you're saying you would if you could afford to?" This conversation had become incredibly weird.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked back, suddenly defensive.

"No reason, I just can't believe there's a bordello in the church!"

Altair laughed again. "Yeah, that's how most people react when they first find out…until they hear about the complementary lap dances,"

I really should've paid more attention in those Religion classes in school.

"Do you want one?" He asked.

"Are you seriously asking me if I want to go down to the church for a lap dance?"

"Why not? We've got time."

I got the feeling he was just trying to freak me out. Or at least, I hope that's what he's trying to do.

"No, I don't want to go get a lap dance. I'm not a lesbian," I said sharply. Just the mental image alone was too much to handle.

"Not all prostitutes are women, you know," he added,

"Yeah, I still don't want one," I replied firmly. I guess this was his way at getting back at me for making him feel uncomfortable before. Bastard.

Altair shrugged. "Your loss."

I rolled my eyes. Ok, I deserved that. But really, a brothel in a church? Wow.

"Well, time to go," Altair said suddenly, walking over to the wooden plank-thing, the usual method of departure.

"Wait a sec, there's no way I'm jumping down that way," I said firmly.

"It's the only way down, unless you want to try climbing again," he reminded me.

God-damnit, why did I have to go climbing up ridiculous heights in the first place? I peered out over the edge.

"Yep, I definitely don't want to do that,"

"Come on, that's what you said about climbing up here. And look where you are now," he remarked.

"Yes, but I almost died in the process!"

"Well, at least this time, you'll be falling on purpose," he replied. Yep, Altair was certainly an excellent motivational speaker. Totally makes me feel better at jumping to my death. Totally.

"There has to be another way," I said, desperately looking around me. I kicked what looked like a trap-door in the ground. Turns out it's just painted on. Stupid game.

"There's only one way down. Don't worry, the cart with hay will break your fall," he said, jumping up onto the wall and walking along the plank.

"Wait, you can't just leave me here!" I protested.

"Then jump," he shouted back, before making a typical leap-of-faith. I rushed over to the edge and watched him drop into the pile of hay. Moments later he climbed out and gestured for me to follow.

I suppose I had no other choice. I stepped up onto the wall and slowly crawled along the plank. I was even higher than when I had slipped on the way up. This was insane.

Just as I was considering turning back, something landed with a thump and a rustle of feathers behind me. I looked back. One of the eagles had landed on the base of the plank, blocking my only exit. I tried to shoo it away.

"Move, I don't want to jump," I told it. The bird of prey pecked at my hand. He wasn't moving.

Shakily, I tried to stand. Maybe if the bird saw I was much bigger than him, he would fly away. Isn't that how it works?

Instead, the eagle hopped forward, closing the gap between us. I began to panic. What was he trying do?

I turned back to the city, so I could see just how far away my feet were to the edge. The last thing I wanted to do was fall off this thing.

But no sooner had I turned my back to the eagle, had something jumped up and pushed me.

I lost my balance and fell off the plank. The ground was rushing towards me once more. I looked back and saw the eagle flying away.

I knew there was a reason why I never trusted those birds.

* * *

_A/n: In reality, I love eagles. Such awesome birds. Kings of the sky. lol And the one's here in Australia, the Wedge-tailed Eagle, the greatest (and largest) one of all. Can't do much better than a 2.5m wing-span. XDD_

_And I don't hate religion. I just like to make jokes at its expense. Nothing is untouchable here in Oz. Just look at that black-face sketch from Hey Hey it's Saturday! (actually, no, that one was really tasteless and stupid. I hope someone got fired over it.) _

_Anyway, despite my new policy, chapter 6 isn't ready…but that's cos I was working both days over the weekend, and my brother and I pooled our money together and bought Grand Theft Auto 4. It's kinda fun. Plus, you play as a guy who speaks with a Russian accent. And boy, do I love accents :D_

_But part 6 should be out on time on Thursday (or Wednesday, depending where you are). _

_I hope you liked this one, though. Review if you want to tell me just how much :D_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/n: __This chapter's slightly late as I was having some trouble with the next one, and didn't want to post anything without keeping it consistent (if that makes any sense). Some of you may roll your eyes are the second half, but bear with me. I'm trying to stay as true to the game as I can (with a bit of creative license). It'll all be explained in the future chapters. _

_Thanks again to all the wonderful, fantastic people who've taken time to review. You guys really are my motivation to keep writing, and some of you have been incredibly helpful with certain details (like how the "Swimming bug" is fixed in the next game, and Altair really does know how to swim. Hmm, maybe I should get 'Bloodlines')_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Part 6

I was falling.

And it was taking longer than I had expected. But I suppose the tower _was_ extremely high. The ground got closer and closer. The wind, though, was actually rather pleasant. It had blown my hood back and my long hair was matting behind me.

Then it hit me; not the ground, but the fact that I was going to die.

I screamed.

And suddenly, I wasn't falling anymore. Instead, I was suffocating on straw. The landing hadn't been as bad as I expected. It was more like landing on a firm mattress, rather than a wooden cart, and I certainly hadn't hit it as hard as physics dictated I should've. Yet another perk about not being in the real world; the laws of physics are only as real as the game designers can be arsed to make them.

I coughed on the hay as it tried to invade my mouth. How the hell did Altair use this as cover at the time?

A rough pair of hands grabbed me and pulled me from the cart. I struggled against them, until I realised it was Altair.

"Was it really necessary to scream?" He asked.

"I was falling to my death, yes I think it was bloody necessary scream," I snapped. He had some nerve.

"Well I think you just alerted the entire city to our presence. We have to move on," he said, trying to pull me away.

I shook off his grasp. "Where are we going?"

He quickly looked around, as if afraid guards were going to appear out of nowhere and attack us (which, on second thought, was probably a legitimate concern). "I've located someone who may have information for us,"

"You mean an interrogation?"

"Yes. Now come on. We have to move quickly,"

I followed the assassin as we speed-walked through the streets, dodging oblivious civilians and winding past the buildings in some sort of bizarre pattern.

I caught up to him. "How do you know where we're going?"

"I got a good look from the tower. I know the way," he replied, making another sharp turn left.

"But we were only up there for like five minutes!"

"Five minutes is all I need," he replied. I resisted the temptation to make a sex joke. Although I couldn't hold back the snort of laughter.

"What?" he shot me a funny look, while maintaining his hurried speed.

"Nothing," I said quickly. I wondered if that sort of humour wasn't common in this time, or if he just hadn't realised what he said…or maybe it's just my dirty teenage mind which looks for innuendo in everything. Yeah, that sounds about right. Stupid hormones.

Altair took another sharp turn and I almost lost him. By the time I caught up, we were in another courtyard. This time, there was a man standing in the middle on a sort of platform, preaching to a small crowd. Great. The interrogation mission.

"You're going to go beat him up, aren't you?" I asked the man next to me.

The short bearded scholar turned to me and gave me a funny look before rushing away. Oops, that's not Altair.

"I'm over here," a voice said behind me.

I spun around. "Dammit Altair, don't do that!"

"Do what?" he feigned innocence.

"Creep up on me like that. It's damn creepy," I huffed, my cheeks still red from embarrassment. I hated accidentally talking to strangers.

"Creeping up on people is part of my job," he reminded me.

"Yes, but I hardly think it applies to the player you pulled into the game," I snapped. This day was getting to be pretty darn stressful.

"Shh, I want to hear what he's saying," Altair dismissed me. My god, he's so bloody inconsistent. First he's joking, then he's serious, then he's sneaking up on me in crowds. He's got more mood-swings than a pregnant lady.

"Tailium works tirelessly for you, the average citizen. Do not listen to their lies. Tailium is a great and powerful man. He will protect us from the war," the preaching man proclaimed, "and may death come swiftly to those who would wish our master harm,"

He seemed to have finished his speech. The crowd began to disperse and the speaker walked off the stage.

Altair stalked after him, following the man into the darkened alley. I looked around. There were no guards to suspect anything. I rushed after them.

When I caught up to them, Altair was busy punching the man in the face. He dodged a kick to the groin and pushed him into the wall. The man hit his head hard, but amazingly was alive.

"Ok, ok, enough. What do you want?" the man yielded.

"Tell me about your master," Altair demanded, holding the man up by his robes.

"Tailium is a gracious man who works tirelessly towards the safety of the citizens," he replied.

Altair didn't seem to like his answer. "Don't give me that crap you tell the masses. What he is really doing in the library?"

"I can't say. Tailium would have my head!" the man pleaded.

"And I'll have it if you don't tell me what you know," Altair threatened. The man whimpered. Shit, it's easy to forget how scary Altair can be.

"Fine, fine, I'll tell you, but I don't know much. I'm just the messenger. I'm not allowed within the inner circle," he gave in.

"I'm listening," Altair replied coldly.

"Tailium believes that the old scrolls contain secrets, secrets we can use to summon a demon, to wipe out Richard and the invaders," the man replied.

Demon? Now that was something I hadn't expected.

Altair seemed to agree. "A demon? And he thinks the scrolls will tell him how?"

"The scrolls are ancient lore, written by wizards of old. They're written in an ancient script that only Tailium can read," the man explained, "And he's so close to discovering the final details. He plans on performing the ritual next week."

"What kind of ritual is this?"

"The kind of ritual for summoning a demon," the man replied stiffly.

Altair pushed him harder against the wall.

"A blood ritual," he whelped.

"A blood ritual?" I spoke up for the first time, "Is he talking about a sacrifice?"

Altair relayed my question using only his eyes (an amazing feat, let me tell you).

The man nodded, "The girl is correct. There will be a sacrifice."

"And who is providing this sacrifice?" Altair asked, finally.

"Robert de Sable," the man replied, "He sends his mistress in the next caravan,"

Wow, if I hadn't already thought the Templars were cold-hearted sonsofbitches, this would have definitely cemented the idea.

Altair seemed surprised too, but he didn't let it show for long. "I see. Is that all you know?"

The man nodded furiously. "Yes, I know nothing more. Please, let me go now,"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Altair replied. He brought his hand with the hidden blade back, ready to finish this interrogation.

But I couldn't just stand here and let it happen. All those times in the game, I had watched helplessly as Altair killed countless informers, otherwise innocent men whose only crime had been knowing the wrong kind of information, and drifting in the wrong crowds. Enough was enough.

"No, Altair, stop," I stepped in.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You can't just kill him. He told you what you wanted," I protested.

The man began to squirm under Altair's grasp, but the assassin held tight. He wasn't going anywhere.

"That doesn't matter. He knows too much. I have to kill him so he can't go back to Tailium." Altair replied gruffly.

"But he might have a family, a wife and kids," I suggested.

"That's right," the man nodded viciously.

"No he doesn't," Altair argued, "He's one of the brothel's most loyal patrons,"

"Then think of the money you're taking away from them!" I cried desperately.

"There will always be others," Altair replied coldly, stabbing the man fatally with the hidden blade.

He fell to the ground in a bloody pile.

I sighed. I could never quite get used to these killings. Their deaths didn't seem as justified as those of the targets; the Templars and criminals who took advantage of the people.

Not to mention it wasn't very polite to kill someone who had just helped you.

"Did you really have to do that?" I asked the assassin as he wiped his blade clean.

"Of course." Altair shrugged, "The Creed demands I leave no trail. I can't risk having someone who knows my face, knows my intentions, just running around. It would compromise the entire mission,"

His words made sense, but I still couldn't just accept them.

"Do you always blindly follow what the Creed says?" I asked.

"Of course not. That's how I got into this mess in first place." He replied, "I didn't follow the Creed, I was reckless, and it got a good man killed, while another lost an arm. I was striped of my rank and weapons. It's how the whole game started, remember?"

Oh yeah, I vaguely remember that premise. "Fine, not following the Creed caused trouble in the past. I'll admit the Creed has its uses, but don't you think it's possible to take things a bit too far?"

"No,"

"Not at all?"

"The Creed is there for a reason. It's the only reason why the Brotherhood has survived so long, and it's the only chance we'll have to stop this war. There's no room for error here," he reasoned.

But it still didn't sit right with me. "You realise you're listening to the words of a man you don't trust?"

"It doesn't matter wether or not I trust Al Mualim. The Creed was around long before him. He didn't write it."

"Yet he's so keen on enforcing it," I added.

Altair seemed frustrated. "This is pointless. I have no choice in the matter. I'm an assassin of the Brotherhood. I follow the Creed. That's how it is,"

"But there's always a choice!" I insisted.

"Look, you're clearly never going to understand. So just shut up and stay out of it. The Creed has never led me wrong." He said dismissively.

I held my tongue, even though I wanted to argue more. People often said I was too stubborn for my own good.

"Now come on, we're done here," He started to climb the conveniently placed ladder beside him, "Time to go to the Bureau and get this assassination over with,"

* * *

_A/n: You know having my brother play Assassin's Creed has really been helpful. Because he's so early in the game, and plays it in the room next to the study, I get to re-hear all the cut scenes again. So useful for helping me know Altair's character better. Although the Wiki is useful too. (Thank god for those nerds who write down all the transcripts!) _

_I am a firm believer in research and working to keep the characters in character. If Altair seems a bit OOC, let me know. Although I'll probably just pass it off as his real character, but you wouldn't know it as he's so restricted in the game. *cough*. _

_Review, if you'd like. Feedback always welcome :D_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/n: __Might be switching to just weekly updates from now on, unless I can manage to write more._

_Thanks again guys, for all the support :D_

* * *

Part 7

By now, I was getting used to Altair's swift pace. I amazed myself by not falling all that far behind. Either I was getting faster, or he was taking pity on me and slowing down a tad. I chose to believe the former.

"Hey," I called. Altair slowed down for me. "You don't really think Tailium is going to summon a demon, do you?"

"I think he's going to try," Altair replied.

"But demons aren't real, right? Magic isn't real here. Nothing like this has come up in the game before. So, it's impossible, right?"

Altair shrugged. "A month ago, I would have agreed with you. I wouldn't have believed that a war could be waged over a stone either. But after seeing the Piece of Eden, I don't know what to believe,"

"…so he could potentially summon a demon to destroy everything?"

"Perhaps. All I know is Tailium is far too dangerous to just let him be. Even if it's only insanity. We've got to stop him now," he replied, "and in the off chance that demons really do exists, it's better to be safe than sorry,"

Well, I couldn't argue with that logic.

"So we'll go assassinate him and be done?" I asked.

Altair shot me another funny look. "What's this 'we' business? Clearly, _I'm _going to be doing the assassinating. I wouldn't trust you to assassinate a monkey."

"That's a horrible thing to say. No one should be assassinating a monkey!" I protested.

"Fine, but you're still not getting involved."

"I thought the point of all this was to teach me how hard your job is. Doesn't that involve assassinating major targets? What happened to that plan?" I reminded him.

"I can't risk you messing it up. Teaching you a lesson just isn't worth it,"

"Oh, so it's not because it would be too dangerous for me to be there with you?"

"Don't worry, you'll still be in plenty of danger," he said, "Just somewhere where it won't affect me."

"Thanks. Don't go out of your way, or anything," I replied sarcastically.

"I won't," said Altair, "Now stay quiet. Once we get into the Bureau, just hang back in the courtyard while I talk to Malik. He won't respond well to your presence."

I began to hear the familiar sounds of clinking pottery, the tell-tale sign that we were approaching the Bureau.

After making the final leap onto the accompanying rooftop (which luckily wasn't very far, so even _I_ could make it), Altair slipped down into the pristine courtyard of the Bureau. I jumped awkwardly down after him, managing to land on my feet. Although I lost my balance moments later, and fell on my arse. The conveniently placed carpet did nothing to break my fall. Why to these level designers even bother putting them in?

Altair gestured for me to be quiet, and he walked through the door into the building. I stalked over to the doorway and stood next to it, so I wouldn't miss out on any of the conversation.

"Altair! I didn't expect to see you again so soon," I heard Malik remark.

"I came as soon as I was ready," Altair replied.

"So you've investigated Tailium?"

"I have,"

"And you think you're ready to go after him?"

"I do,"

"Well, I'll be the judge of that,"

A butterfly flittered through the courtyard, catching my attention. I watched as it flew delicately around, moving towards the potted plants in the corner. It flew by my face and I was tempted to step away from the tiny insect. I didn't like having things so close to my face. I stood as still as a statue, hoping it would simply loose interest and fly away. Without warning it landed on my nose.

Startled, I jumped away and tripped over an uneven paver. I landed heavily, sprawled out on the ground. The butterfly had already flown away towards the flowers.

Someone cleared their throat and I looked up. Altair and Malik were staring at me. And I didn't like either of their expressions.

"…is that a girl?" Malik broke the silence.

"Yes," Altair admitted, "She's with me,"

"You brought a girl here? Who is she? She's not of the Brotherhood," Malik demanded. He seemed angry. Altair had been right after all, unfortunately. Would it really kill him to be wrong once in a while?

"She's just a friend," Altair tried to play it down, "Now, about the assassination – "

"Altair, you can't just bring your _woman_ here; this is serious business." Malik replied.

"Hey, I'm no-one's woman, your sexist pig!" I shouted back angrily.

"Calm down, tigercub684, now is not the time to lash out at allies," Altair tried to step in.

"…what did you call me?" I asked

Altair seemed confused at my confusion. "tigercub684…is that not your name?"

"…no, that's just my Xbox gamer-tag…and my internet alias." I explained.

"Oh…then what is your real name?"

"Altair! Do you want to do the assassination or not? You can converse with your mistress later," Malik interrupted.

Altair sent me a warning look and I grinded my teeth in frustration. I would have to save correcting this jerk until after Altair got the permission he needed.

"I'm ready," He confirmed.

"Are you? What have you discovered about the target?"

Altair glanced at me and I stepped back while maintaining my glare on Malik. I may have felt sorry for that one-armed bastard before, but he certainly made it difficult to like him. I mean, who is that rude?

It then occurred to me that his words might have been designed to annoy Altair more than insult me. That actually made me feel a bit better.

"I know Tailium is an old friend of Robert de Sable, and appointed here as regent. He uses slaves captured from the surrounding islands in the Mediterranean to mine gold in order to trade for more ancient texts. He believes himself a Chosen One, a prophet, and is obsessively studying ancient scrolls for black magic. He hopes to perform a blood ritual next week, using Robert de Sable's mistress as a sacrifice, to summon a powerful demon, in order to wipe out Richard's forces and win the war,"

Altair certainly had a way with words, tying in all the bits of information he had gathered into a short little story. Ok, it had about all the imagination of a profit/loss statement, but still, it said all it was supposed to. I guess it's meant to be a report, not an epic tale.

"I see, and where will you be going to find Tailium?"

"He spends most of his time in the library at the palace. There is a vantage point on the southern wall. It will be easy to break in unnoticed,"

"What of the guards?"

"Tailium doesn't allow anyone in the library with him, so there are only a small number of guards stationed at the entrances, but none on the inside. Once I'm inside, I will be no obstacles to prevent me from assassinating him,"

"So you think you have it all worked out?" Malik asked.

"Yes. What more is there to know?" Altair replied.

"What about the girl? Do you plan on taking her with you?"

Yes Altair, what am I supposed to do while you're out slitting throats?

"She will distract the guards and allow me to slip into the palace," Altair replied.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" I spoke up finally.

Altair looked back at me, "Well, you've proven very distracting so far. Why not put that amazing talent to good use?"

I rolled my eyes. "How about _you_ distract the guards and I'll go assassinate Tailium?" I suggested sarcastically.

"What? After your brilliant performance earlier? You really think you can assassinate someone as dangerous as Tailium?"

"He sounds like a book worm to me. Shouldn't be any trouble,"

"You shouldn't underestimate him. He may seem feeble, but he's one of Robet's most trusted men," Altair replied, "He's a lot more dangerous than the guards. Or a butterfly,"

"…oh, so you saw that?"

"I wouldn't involve you at all if I thought there was somewhere you could wait, out of the way. But since I don't want to make Malik suffer the duty of babysitting - "

"How considerate of you," Malik remarked dryly,

" - It looks like I have no choice other than to have you tag along. Maybe the guards will think you're a clown, hired for their entertainment," he said finally.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "A clown? Please If the guards are too thick to recognise the difference between you and a scholar, I doubt they'll see anything different about me. Besides, it's not like it's hard to be you. All I would have to do is pull my hood up and scowl a lot. Your own mother wouldn't know the difference,"

Altair scowled.

"Yeah, just like that," I mimicked him, "Grr, I'm a mean assassin,"

Malik laughed. "I underestimated you, girl. That's funny,"

Altair didn't look happy. Serves him right for undermining me.

"But you should probably do the assassination. I mean, you already have all the knives." I said matter-of-factly.

"Actually, perhaps you _should_ do the assassination," Altair said, looking thoughtful, "I mean, the whole point of you being here is to learn how to do my job. What better way to learn than to kill a templar yourself?"

That was unexpected. "…you can't be serious?"

"What do you think Malik? Will you authorise it?" He asked.

"Hmm, well I've never met her before, and it doesn't seem like she's had any training," Malik began, "But what the hell. I'm feeling generous today. Sure, I'll authorise it,"

"Ok, I change my mind!" I said quickly.

Altair and Malik broke out in laughter. Dammit, how did I not see that coming?

"Thanks for playing along, old friend," Said Altair.

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven," Malik warned, "It was just amusing to watch her squirm,"

"Yes, it was hilarious. You two are true comedians," I said sarcastically, "are we going to assassinate someone or not?"

"Ah yes, of course," Malik cleared his throat, "Altair, you have demonstrated a satisfactory knowledge of the target. You have much to learn, but I suppose it is enough," he placed the official feather on the desk, in usual 'assassination approval' fashion.

"Thank you Malik," Altair nodded.

"Thank me after you come back victorious, and not a moment sooner," Malik replied sharply.

"Ok,"

"And I mean that. I don't want to see your ugly face in here again until Tailium is dead," he reiterated.

"I understand," Altair replied solemnly.

"Good,"

"…wow, you guys sure are tense," I remarked, "Isn't there are brothel in this town?"

Altair looked highly embarrassed and Malik just shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

Talk about awkward. Their expressions were priceless.

Malik cleared his throat to break the silence. "You can rest here, if you want, until you're ready to go,"

Altair nodded and dragged me into the back of the room, and through a door which I hadn't realised was there before, (due to the obscurity of the damn in-game camera). We were in a room with rugs and pillows (assumably the Holy Land set up for sleeping) and a water basin. It looked exactly like somewhere an assassin would sleep and prepare for his upcoming mission…which made perfect sense. You know, rather than the random jumping around of the Animus fast-forwarding.

Altair collapsed on a rug.

"Well, that was fun," I yawned.

Altair didn't reply.

"Hey, knife-boy. What now?" I nudged him with my foot.

"We relax. Killing Tailium can wait until tomorrow. Now is the time to sleep," He replied drowsily.

"We're waiting? Now? Well, this is unexpected," I explained. "Why doesn't everyone do this? How come in all the books and movies and video games, whenever the characters are on some epic quest, it's always 'let's go right now'! I've always said it's better to take a few days to properly prepare. Maybe then Frodo wouldn't have been hit by that Orc arrow,"

The room was silent. Apart from Altairs' snores.

"Great, fall asleep _now_," I muttered sitting cross-legged on an accompanying rug-and-pillow set up. I picked up the nearest pillow and studied the intricate pattern. It was pretty good, and probably hand-sewn. There was certainly a lot of good needle-work in this place. The art director sure did his research.

Suddenly, the scene before me flickered and the familiar blue pixels appeared, stealing away the room.

* * *

_A/N: This chapter actually had several alternate endings for Malik and Altair's conversation. Some gems include:_

"_**Thank me after you've killed the bastard. And I'll thank you if you stab yourself out of confusion." (suggested by Brendan)**_

"_**Thank me when you've returned with your cloak thoroughly stained red," (Juzz)**_

"_**Thank me when you've come back, your robes soaked in the blood of your victim, with intestines in your hair and grasping his head, still withering with a shadow of life" (the ever so gruesome Juzz, again)**_

_And the always interesting_

"_**Forget the mission, fuck me now," (…me, as a joke)**_

_Ah, the joys of MSN. XD _

_That last one actually led on to an epic roleplay between me and Juzz, which resulted in a long and epic capslock argument between the two characters, bickering like an old married couple, set with lies, deception, broken hearts, etc. Would've made a great soap-opera. _

_And now, thanks so said roleplay, we're planning on writing together a crack Malik/Altair fanfiction. It shall be hilarious. I'll put up links once we get to work and start posting, in case you're interested. _

_But let it be known, Malik/Altair is my AC Crackship, not my OTP. I'm going to have to go with the canon on this one (and yes I know what the canon is. Thanks to the missing spoiler warning on the AC wiki)_

_But as a result of my crazy conversation, I fear that this chapter may have some unintentional homoerotic undertones. If so, I assure you they are unintentional, and only a result of the discovery of the vast Malik/Altair crackship following, thus melting my brain while I was writing. _

_And by the way, whatever happened to two male characters being friends without some fangirl turning it into a homoerotic relationship? Am I the only one who isn't crazy (or a total yaoi pervert)? Lol _

_But seriously though, there's one in every god-damn fandom. It's insane. _

_(LOTR referance FTW!)_

_R&R!_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/n: __A huge thank you to all my brilliant reviewers, as usual. I adore you all :D_

_And without further delay, onto chapter 8:_

* * *

Part 8

After a brief blue screen, the pixels faded and the room returned. What the hell had just happened?

I turned to ask Altair, but when I looked over, he was gone.

"Altair?" I called aloud. Nothing. Oh, that's not good. My guide's gone and I have no idea what just happened.

I got up and opened the door. Malik was still at this desk, busy scribbling away at the book in front of him.

"Malik, have you seen Altair?" I asked.

He looked up, surprised. "He's right over there," he nodded to the courtyard.

I ran over to the door, and indeed, there he was. "Where did you go?" Altair asked.

"I was about to ask you the same thing? What happened?"

Altair looked thoughtful, "I think it was a time-skip. Were you still in the other room?"

"Yes! It was the strangest thing,"

"I guess the Animus doesn't recognise you, and so doesn't teleport you in the fast-forwards." He reasoned.

"…that's not good,"

"Don't worry; maybe it was just a one-off."

"Hey, are you two going to stand there chatting all day, or are you going to go spill some Templar blood?" Malik interrupted.

"We're on our way," Altair replied, moving towards the opening in the courtyard roof.

"And good riddance. Bloody talking all day like a bunch of jackals," I heard Malik mutter as I followed the assassin to the exit.

If I've learned anything in the past day (or 10 real-world minutes), it's that Malik and Altair's exchanges are far more interesting in person.

Altair bounded up the wall and onto the roof, waiting for me to follow. I struggled my way up but eventually made it. How did Altair have so much energy after all that running before?

"Come on, we've only got a few hours before Tailium leaves the Library and rejoins his guard. We'll have to strike before that happens, if we want any hope of doing this quickly and quietly," Altair instructed, setting off.

I didn't catch up with him again until we reached the top of the outer palace wall. The palace itself was more like a fortress, really. Luckily the library was supposed to be one of the outer buildings, so we didn't have to get past too many guards on the way.

I collapsed, exhausted, at Altair's feet.

"What are you doing? We don't have time for breaks!" Altair replied, annoyed.

"Sorry, not all of us are good at running about non-stop. I haven't had a real break since the top of that damn tower," I complained.

"What are you talking about? Didn't you rest at the Bureau?"

"No, I was only there for like 10 seconds before we fast-forwarded. Why, did you?"

"…yes, that's how it works."  
"So you got a full night's sleep?"

"Of course."

"And why didn't it work for me?"

Altair shrugged. "Probably due to the same reason why you weren't teleported outside. You're not part of the game,"

I looked up at the giant window to my lounge room. My lazy cat had now moved from the couch to my vacated beanbag. Figures the first thing he does when I'm gone is take over. Probably didn't even try looking for me. Stupid, ungrateful cat. He can find someone else to feed him now.

"So are we going to do this, or not?" I asked.

"I was waiting for you,"

"Right,"

"There's no time to chat, we've got to sneak down into the courtyard below us. From there I want you to go and distract the guards," he instructed.

"Oh, so we're still going with the distracting thing? How exactly am I supposed to do that?" I asked.

He shrugged again. "I don't know. Use your womanly ways, ask for directions, dance a jig, I don't care. Just keep them occupied until I can take them out and sneak inside,"

"Hmm, dance a jig…do you think that will work?"

Altair rolled his eyes. "Just get going,"

"Fine, no need to get so bossy. Geeze, you're awful grumpy in the mornings," I muttered, climbing down the convenient ladder to the ground. I hid behind a tree and spotted the guards at the Library's main entrance. There were two of them, standing at attention and looking thoroughly bored.

Choosing a combination of ideas, I pulled my assassin's hood down and tried to fix my hair as best I could in the reflection of a shiny wall ornament. I didn't look as bad as I expected. And it was lucky I never went a day without putting on make-up, as time-consuming and seemingly pointless as it is, since I don't usually go anywhere. I'm just working my way though the collection I keep amassing every birthday and Christmas. I own so much eyeliner, I could stock about every emo band in the country.

I actually looked half-decent.

Happy with my appearance, I began stage two of my plan, and walked up to the guards. Yep, complicated shit, I know.

And thus began stage three.

"Hey there," I called, using my high-pitched, wispy voice I usually reserved for my job (serving customers…at a fast-food restaurant. They find it less threatening. What did you think I meant?), "I was wondering if you could give me directions to the bathhouse,"

The two men exchanged looks. I take it this wasn't normal for them.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Altair jump down from the wall. I would have to do better than this.

"You see, I just got back from a road trip, and I'm afraid I'm very dusty," I elaborated, trying to be as distractingly seductive as possible. Yeah, I'm not winning any academy awards here.

I tried tossing my hair. Nope. They just seemed confused, but at least I had their attention.

"I didn't realise they had any female scholars," one of the guards remarked.

"Yeah, I thought they only took men," the other agreed.

Oops, I probably should've done my research (not that I was given time to prepare, thanks a lot Altair). Was this still the time where women were treated like objects and forbidden to learn? Or even walk outside unaccompanied, for that matter? Shit, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Where's your escort?" the guard on the left asked, confirming my suspicions,

"Um, he's parking the donkey," I improvised.

"What do you want?" The other guard asked.

"Directions. Geeze, weren't you two louts listening?" I saw Altair inch closer along the side of the building. I wouldn't have to wait much longer.

"Look, we don't have any bathhouses here," the left guard replied.

"Well that explains a lot," I muttered. He was just metres away.

"What did you say?"

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked instead. So close. Not much longer now.

"Where did your husband take the donkey? Perhaps we should find him for you," the guard on the right suggested. Were they trying to get rid of me?

"I dunno. Outside somewhere," I replied. Hurry up Altair!

"Maybe we should go look," the guard turned to walk to the side.

"No, wait!" I said quickly. Altair froze. He was _just_ too far away to take them out without alerting someone if the guard turned and spotted him now.

Both guards looked at me expectantly.

I panicked and fell to the ground dramatically, sighing "Oh, the heat,"

I heard the guards rush over. All that time I had spent trying (and failing) to teach my dog to play dead had actually paid off.

I heard a set of muffled footsteps run up, and a surprised whelp. I opened my eyes to see Altair leap off the body of the freshly slain guard and quickly jump to the other. The guard didn't even know what hit - I mean, stabbed - him.

Another gruesome kill.

"Good thinking," Altair complemented me as he picked up the body of one of the fallen guards, "grab the other one,"

"What are you going?" I asked, picking up guard number one.

"Hiding the bodies so they don't attract more guards," he replied.

Ha, brilliant idea. It's a wonder they never let me do that in the game.

We dragged the bodies over to some thick bushes along the wall and made sure they were out of sight.

"Ok, now wait at the door. I need you to be look-out," Altair instructed as we walked back to the building.

"Alright, I can do that. What's the signal?" I asked.  
"Signal?"

"Yeah, if someone's coming,"

"No signal, just run in and find me. I should be done quickly anyway, so this is just a precaution," he replied.

"Then where will you be? It's a pretty big building,"

"Tailium's private study is on the second floor, in the right wing. It's apparently got a huge pair of oak doors, so you shouldn't miss it. But if we're lucky, you won't have to worry about navigating it. And don't worry about patrolling guards. Only get me if anyone finds the bodies, or tries to attack you,"

I didn't like that last part. "Great,"

We reached the door and I took my position in the doorway. Altair brushed past me and disappeared into the darkness of the library. "Good luck," I quietly called after him.

The sound of his muffled boots disappeared, and I was alone.

* * *

_A/n: I saw an Assassin's Creed novel in the store the other day. I think it's supposed to be based off the sequel. I was going to get it, but I had already spent my money on Xmas gifts. Ah well, next time. I don't think I'd read it until I've finished the game anyway. Might have too many spoilers. _

_ANYWAY, back to my story, to those reviewers who didn't sign in to review (and thus have prevented me from replying, as I like to reply to all of you), I'll just leave a few words for you here:_

_THANKS :D I'm so amazed that I haven't yet received a negative review, which either means you all love my work, or the people who don't just aren't bothering to tell me so. Either way, awesome :D _

_One or two of you have mentioned that Altair is a bit OOC, and I would probably agree that he's not quite spot on. The only excuse I can offer is "creative licence", but I guess that's no good since this is fanfiction. Ah well. I do the best I can. If it continues to be a problem, or gets to the point where it's just outright irritating, let me know. _

_Also, first person to point out Prates of the Caribbean reference gets a virtual cookie. _

_Review if you'd be so inclined, and see you all next chapter ;D_

_PS: Oh, and Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it. And for everyone else, Happy Whatever-Holiday-You-Celebrate. :D _


	9. Chapter 9

_A/n: Ah, I've been looking forward to this chapter. I hope I didn't stuff it up. Writing fight/assassination scenes is hard. :(_

_Thanks again to all my wonderful, fantastic, super awesome reviewers :D I love you guys ;D_

* * *

Part 9

Altair silently entered the private collection room of the Library. It had been harder to find than he had anticipated. He prayed the girl wouldn't have to come after him. Knowing her, she'd probably get lost, and he'd have to rescue her _again_.

Tailium stood hunched over the far desk, turning the pages of a book and scribbling notes down with a quill on the parchment beside him. There were no guards, nothing to get in the way of this assassination at all. Just a moderately old man and his books.

Altair moved forward, ever-thankful that his muffled boots made no noise against the hardwood floors. These were the assassinations he liked the best; silent and over with quickly. No battle and no noise to attract guards. It was a rare luxury to have such an element of surprise.

Suddenly, Tailium sighed. "I see the Brotherhood has finally learned of my actions, and now they've sent a dog to kill me,"

Altair froze. So much for the element of surprise. "So you've been expecting me," he said, trying to keep his voice confident and thus keep the upper hand.

"Of course. Every man has their day, for when the string of fate is cut painfully short; a time to die. As it is written," Tailium replied dramatically.

"So then, any last words before I cut your string? Any attempt at justifying your actions?" Altair asked, flicking out his hidden blade.

Tailium seemed to smile, though still not facing his attacker, "I would. But this is not my time," Suddenly, he turned and emptied a pot of ink at Altair.

Altair flinched and tried to shield his eyes from the dark blue liquid. The ink splattered all over his robes and face, and while still trying to clear his sight, he heard the clink of a sword being drawn, and brought out his short blade. He managed to cross the short blade and hidden blade in time to stop Tailium bringing down his own sword. Of course the Templar wouldn't be unarmed. He was foolish to think otherwise.

Altair continued to wipe away the ink while fighting practically blind. Squinting, he blocked and parried every attack the Templar made, but he was at a grave disadvantage. By the time his eyes were clear, he had somehow manage to back Tailium into a corner. The Templar stopped attacking and reached into the bookcase. He flung the shelf of books at the assassin, and Altair stepped back to avoid the projectiles.

Tailium used the distraction to run. He made it half way across the room before Altair realised. Without thinking, he readjusted his grip on the short blade and threw it like a dagger. The sword hit its mark, and the Templar fell heavily to the ground, skewered in the abdomen.

Tailium struggled in vein to continue his escape as the assassin walked over, but it was futile. The pain was too debilitating. He ended up floundering in a pool of his own blood.

Altair reached the Templar and roughly turned him over. "I guess it would seem that today _is_ your day," he said coldly.

Tailium sighed, giving up, "I suppose you're right,"

"So, are you going to talk now?"

"What do you want me to say? There's nothing I can tell you that you haven't already been told by the others. My death will not change anything. A war is still coming. We _will_ reclaim the Piece of Eden and reshape this world. Your efforts are futile. And you can't even begin to understand the complexity of it all,"

"Try me,"

"Why bother? You're an assassin. You wouldn't understand. How could you? You've been trained to blindly follow the words of your so-called master all your life. If my brothers have failed to enlighten you, I doubt I'll be successful,"

Altair didn't like the way this academic made such contemptuous assumptions. "So you believe like the others that your work was noble? For the greater good?"

"Of course,"

"You believed that summoning a demon would help your people?" he asked in disbelief.

"Not directly, but the demon would secure this war, help us conquer the Holy Land and thus usher in a new age, a new world; a better world."

"And you really think you could control a djinni?"

"With the right enchantments and symbols, yes. Look around you, history is littered with stories of sorcerers using djinn to tip the scales of fate. It could be done again,"

"But most of these stories also speak of speakable amounts of destruction. You'd risk destroying the whole city and more, endangering people's lives, simply because it might help you win the war? And based on what? Fairy tales?"

"So you do believe in demons?"

"I believe you're insane,"

"Yes, that is what people say. But then I usually have them killed for treason." Tailium replied almost fondly,

If he hadn't already heard of far worse, Altair would've been horrified.

"But, alas, I can see all that is for nought. No one else has the ability to summon and control such power easily, at least not without the Piece of Eden. And it's all because of you and your meddling Brotherhood,"

"In which case, I'm glad I had a hand in saving these people from your madness,"

"Save them? You don't realise the results of your actions, do you? Have you ever stoped to think about what you're actually doing? Are we really the enemy? Answer me this assassin, so we not want the same thing? Do we not all dream of a world where all men stand as equals? Of prosperity and happiness?" Tailium asked, the delirium from the pain beginning to take over.

"I can't imagine a person who wouldn't want those things,' Altair admitted.

"Then why do we fight? Together we could achieve so much more, create a new world,"

"Perhaps, but to achieve your dream your way would require the slaughter of thousands. We disagree with your method, not your motive,"

"But you are foolish to think that such an outcome could be achieved any other way,"

"So you believe,"

"'So you believe'" Tailium mocked, "So it is. Lord, I never expected my killer to talk back so much,"

"And I never expected dying Templars to be so chatty, so I guess neither of us is getting what we expected,"

"Touché"

"So, is that all you have to say?" Altair asked,

"Why? Feeling hesitant? Heart not in it today?" the Templar asked sarcastically,

"No, I just believe it's polite to let you finish before you die,"

"How considerate," Tailium replied coldly.

"But there is just one more thing I don't understand,"

"Oh, how surprising. And what's that?"

"Why do you believe this is the only way to bring about a better world? And what could the Piece of Eden possibly do to help you achieve it?" Altair asked.

"Ah, I'm afraid that's something you'll have to ask Robert himself, assuming you live long enough to do so," the Templar grabbed Altair's left hand and pressed the tiny button that released the hidden blade, "But now, if you don't mind, I think I'll take my chances in the afterlife now, rather than just sit here and slowly bleed to death. See you on the other side,"

And with those words, Tailium plunged the blade into his chest and right through his heart. After a few dying spasms, he became still, forevermore.

Stunned, Altair retrieved his blades and covered the feather in blood only when approaching footsteps brought him back to reality.

* * *

I gasped for air as I reached the top of the stairs, and swore to start going to the gym more often as soon as I got back home. I ran down the hall and turned two corners at random before I stumbled upon the large doors Altair had described. I pushed them open and found the assassin still kneeling beside the body, who I assumed was Tailium.

"Quickly, are you done?" I asked him in a panicked voice,

"Yes. What's wrong?" he replied,

"Guards found the bodies. It's only a matter of time until they come looking here,"

"Then we should go," Altair got up and walked across the room and over to the windows. He opened one and signalled for me to follow as he climbed out onto the ledge and pulled himself up.

I began to follow, but stopped at the far desk. Curious to see what all the fuss was about, I examined the open book beside a page of parchment with notes. It was all written in some sort of Aramaic language that I had no hope of deciphering, and I couldn't quite work out what the pictures were of either. I turned to the cover and found something I certainly did recognise.

"Are you coming or what?" Altair called from the roof.

Chuckling at my discovery, I closed the book and continued on to the window. I climbed out onto the ledge, and Altair offered me a hand. I took it and he pulled me up to the roof with his super-assassin strength. I imagine he has some amazing biceps.

We ran along the library roof to the point that was closer to the wall than anywhere else. Unfortunately, it was still far too great a distance to jump (something the old me would have tested repeatedly) but there was a suspended platform being held in the middle. Of course, it was still too far for me to reach. Stupid level designers. Could've been more generous with those damn platforms.

I began to voice my concerns when I was cut off as Altair scooped me up and ran backwards several metres.

"What the hell are you doing? Put me down!" I protested.

But Altair ignored me and sprinted forward towards the platform. I couldn't bear to look.

There was a sickening lurch as we were suddenly airborne, and for a few dizzying seconds, I thought we were going to fall and die for sure. Amazingly, we landed on the platform and Altair continued onwards, making the final leap and landing on the palace wall. He had done it; Altair had actually carried us both across the huge gap. I was impressed.

The assassin set me down on the ground and continued over to the ladder leading down to the street outside the palace.

We ran erratically through the streets. If memory served, the Bureau was a fair distance away from the palace. Damn.

We ducked in and out of cover, flittering like birds, every time Altair spotted guards, which was annoyingly frequent since they were on high alert for an assassin by now. After stumbling into a dark, empty courtyard, Altair helped me up onto the roof and we continued our race in the sky.

Suddenly, we were spotted. "Assassin, there he is!" a guard cried.

Altair grabbed my arm and pulled me along as we ran even faster along the roof-tops. Arrows whistled by and bounced away behind us, uncomfortably close.

After a sharp turn around a tower, we reached a roof-top tent. Altair swiftly picked me up and threw me in. I landed heavily, hitting the other side of the tent. Luckily, the floor was even more padded than the straw carts.

Moments later Altair jumped in after me. He signalled to stay quiet and we waited for the guards to pass.

There was a crunch of boots as several of the guards reached our roof top. It seemed like an eternity, and I held my breath as I waited anxiously for them to give up.

Finally, I heard the reassuring, "I can't believe I lost him". I sighed in relief. That was close.

We climbed out of the roof-tent. I dusted off the last of the straw and looked at Altair.

"What?" he asked.

"Why are you blue?" I asked, only now noticing the huge blue stain on his robes and face.

"Tailium threw ink at me,"

Ha, now that's something I didn't expect. "He has good aim,"

"It's not funny. These are the only robes I have," he replied,

"Actually, that makes it even funnier," I informed him.

"It better come out," he tugged impatiently at the front of his robes, "I can't blend in like this,"

"Maybe you could ditch the robes and join the Blue Man Group,"

"…that what?"

"Oh right, don't have them here. Either way, your new nickname is definitely Blue Face,"

Altair did not seem amused. "No it's not, and if you call me that again I'll push you off the roof. See how you like it,"

He scowled, but with this new colour, it just seemed even more hilarious. I once again struggled not to laugh.

"Let's just go to the Bureau and go home. Maybe someone can wash out the ink in Masyaf," Altair sighed and leaped onto the next building.

I allowed myself one more giggle before I jumped after him. Ha ha, ink.

* * *

_Oh, what did I do there? Did I use a different perspective? Why yes, yes I did. Just to shake things up. Did I blow your minds??? Are you lives now significantly improved after having read a story with more than one type of perspective????_

…_no, of course not. That is just silly. _

_Anyway, I read somewhere that fight-scenes are some of the hardest scenes to write. And you only really realise how true that is when you're faced with writing one. I haven't really written many in the past (because without really meaning to, most of my stories end up being romances)(lol) but it's something I can't afford when writing a fanfiction about a game like this. It's certainly really good for me to learn this, but forgive me if my action scenes seem somewhat lacklustre. I'm still learning, dammit! For me, that's what writing fanfiction is all about; learning and developing my writing skills for my real novels. :D Which I seem to be neglecting in favour of this story…I hope you people are happy…XD_

_And dinnji = demon in this case. Speaking of Dinnji, I'd recommend you all read Jonathan Stroud's Bartimaeus Trilogy. One of my favourite trilogies :D So awesome. _

_Anyway, hope you liked this chapter, and I'll see you soon. I'll upload as soon as the one after next is done. Hopefully before next Monday. _

_Hope you had an awesome Christmas, and have a happy New Year!_

_Review if you can spare the time :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/n: Chapter 10. OMG a day earlier than normal. How crazy. I'm kinda breaking my own policy here, but what the hell, I've been getting so many reviews lately, I feel like posting ahead of schedule. Enjoy :D_

* * *

Part 10

Malik was genuinely surprised to see us back so soon. "Finished already?"

"Yes," Altair confirmed, walking into the building.

"And without gathering an army of guards at your heels? Impressive," He paused suddenly and looked quizzically at the assassin, "Why are you blue?"

"He decided to try some face-painting…literally," I quipped cheerfully.

"No, Tailium attacked me with a pot of ink. A full one, by the looks of it," Altair said quickly.

"Hmm, and to think I would've been more worried about swords," Malik remarked, clearly amused.

"It's not funny," Altair replied, "If this ink doesn't come out, I don't know what I'm going to do. I'd attract too much attention like this, and I don't have any other clothes,"

"That's stupid," I interrupted, "I mean, everyone knows white is the hardest colour to keep clean; why wouldn't you have spare robes? And what do you do about all the blood stains?"

"Blood comes off. But I've never had to worry about ink before, so I don't know," he replied.

"Maybe you could get some more ink, dye the rest of it blue, and swap with me. I reckon I'd look good in blue," I mused.

"Swap with you? I think it would be a bit short," He laughed.

"Hey, I'm only a few inches shorter than you. I'm actually considered rather tall for a girl my age," I said, standing up straight self-consciously.

"I guess you are pretty tall for a twelve year old, but your robes would still be too short,"

"Twelve? I'm eighteen!" I protested.

"Really? Could've fooled me," Altair said with a smug grin. I could see Malik holding back laughter from his desk.

"Oh, and how old are you, then?" I crossed my arms, annoyed.

"Twenty four," he replied simply.

"…seriously?" I was genuinely surprised, "No way!"

Altair nodded. "I'm telling you I'm twenty four. Aren't I, Malik?"

"Yes he is. A year young than me," Malik confirmed.

But I wanted proof. Before Altair could react, I stretched up and pulled his hood down, and finally saw his face in the light. There was an obvious resemblance with him and Desmond, which was to be expected, of course. His brown hair was ruffled; "hood hair" as I would describe it (like "hat hair", but from a hood)(clever, I know).

"Have you no sense of personal space?" He demanded irritably,

"Personal what now?" I grinned. Without all the shadows, it was easier to believe Altair was as young as he claimed. And as handsome as he is in all the fanart.

He reached to pull his hood back up, but I stopped him. "Leave it down. It's much more relaxed this way. Besides, who are you trying to impress with all the formalities? You two are old friends," Malik coughed at that comment, "And I'm here with you, so why bother?"

Altair grudgingly obeyed, and Malik brought us back to the point of this meeting. "So, anyway, you've killed Tailium. Do you have the feather?"

Altair reached into his robes and pulled out the bloodied feather. What a charming token. He placed the feather on the desk, where Malik nodded and stashed it somewhere below the bench.

"And did the templar have anything unusual to say?" he asked.

"Only how we're wrong and we're dooming the people by interrupting their grand plan to reshape the world. Nothing new," Altair replied.

"Hmph, of course he'd say something like that. Such fools,"

"Actually, _I_ found something interesting," I said suddenly.

Malik glanced at Altair, "I thought you said she was just going to distract the guards,"

"She did, but we had to leave through the library when more guards came," Altair explained, "What did you find?"

"Well, I looked at that open book on the desk, the one next to some parchment with scribbles on it," I told them.

"He was taking notes from that when I came in. What did you see?" Altair asked.

"Well, I couldn't understand the language, but I flicked to the cover, and well, what I saw was kind of universal. The title of the book; totally recognisable. I wonder what he was doing with such a book," I wondered.  
"What was it called?" Malik asked impatiently.

"The Karma Sutra,"

Malik and Altair exchanged glances. "Are you sure?" the assassin asked,

"Positive. I'd recognise it anywhere," I nodded.

Malik raised an eyebrow.

"Not like that," I said quickly, "But the book is pretty well known. And it actually makes sense, in a twisted sorta way,"

"How does is make sense that Tailium was taking notes on how to raise a demon, from the Karma Sutra?" Malik asked.

"Well that informer said he was planning on using a blood ritual…and well, maybe before we were thinking of the wrong interpretation of the term 'blood ritual'" I suggested.

Malik and Altair had matching looks of horror.

"What? It can't be that unusual. Other cults and such use rituals like that all the time, right?" I shrugged.

"Yes, but I guess I didn't think that sort of thing was the Templars' style," Altair replied.

"It's certainly unexpected," Malik agreed.

"Hmm, you're right. Maybe it was a Double Blood Ritual," I suggested,

Altair winced, "I don't even want to know – "

"As in, after they do the first thing, they slit her throat," I said quickly.

"Well, that does sounds more like them," the assassin agreed.

"Before we go on theorising all the gory details of their plan, are we even sure it was even possible? I mean, the girl was supposed to be one of Robert's mistresses, right?" Malik reminded us.

"Yeah, so? What's your point?" I asked.

"I mean, if she's his mistress…your first theory wouldn't be viable," I could see him actively edging around the subject. I guess men in all ages are made uncomfortable by the functions of female biology.

"It doesn't necessarily mean that he's already slept with her. Maybe he just took her in under the guise of "mistress", because it's a little more acceptable than "sacrifice"," I replied, "Besides, from what I've seen of Robert, he doesn't really seem the type to take mistresses,"

"I don't know about that," Altair interjected, "but perhaps it really _was_just a cover. It sounds like the Templars have been planning this summoning for a while. I just hope they haven't gotten anyone who could replace Tailium in his part,"

"You mean his part in raping – "

"And reading from the scriptures," he said quickly,

"Oh yeah, that too," I agreed.

"But at least Tailium is finally dead," Said Malik, hoping to move the conversation along, finally, "You've done well, Altair. You've managed to kill the templar swiftly and without attracting too much attention. You've actually managed to do things by the creed. I'm impressed,"

Altair smiled a small smile. "Thank you,"

Malik continued, "It's about time you learned such basic principles,"

His smile was immediately replaced with a scowl. Altair's jaw tensed. "I am humbled by your praise," he said dryly.

But Malik had already turned back to doing whatever it is he does behind his bench. Looked like he was stacking assorted jars, probably filled with poisons or medicines. Or sweet-smelling incense. And tea. Such a girl.

I saw Altair roll his eyes. Talk about one step forward, two steps back. Were they ever going to resolve their issues? Worse than children they are, with their grudges. I mean, it was just an arm…

"That went well," I muttered to the assassin.

Instead of a reply, I got blue pixels. The scene before me shimmered once again and disappeared under a blue blanket.

Then the pixels faded, I was still inside the Bureau.

Malik was dozing at his desk. He almost looked adorable (as most everyone does when sleeping).

I looked around. Altair had been moved outside, again. And his robes were also suddenly spotless. How nice of the Animus.

"You still weren't teleported?" He asked

I shook my head, "Clearly not. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Yes, or do you not remember where we go after finishing a main target?"

Of course, Masyaf! "Wait, you're telling me I'll have to walk all that way myself?" I exclaimed. The very idea was beginning to make me tired.

"Hopefully not. I think I've got a plan," He replied.

A blue pixel appeared right in front of my nose. The time-skip was starting again. Another pixel, and then another popped up. "Whatever this plan is, do it quick!" I cried.

By now about a third of the room was disappearing. I closed my eyes and tried to brace myself for being left behind. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Malik could teach me how to stack jars. And whatever else he did.

Suddenly, I was lifted into the air. Altair had scooped me up again. "Hold on," he shouted over the sound of the Animus. I flung my arms tightly around his neck, and hoped for the best.

* * *

_Lol, Malik amuses me greatly. I especially love all the fanart and fancomics with him and Altair on DeviantART. So funny. There's one fairly memorable one with Malik as a one-armed DJ. XD That cracked me up. It could actually work. I mean, you only really need one arm to scratch disks...(although I understand real DJing involves alot more than that. I met one at my cousin's 18th, and there's a heap of impressive equiptment involved. Lots of levers...he was kinda hot...)_

_ANYWAY, (lol, going a bit too off topic there) thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I really really appreciate it, and those reviews really do make my day :D Especially the long ones (lol, there's nothing I like more than hearing in detail all the reasons why you like my work XD). You people really are fantastic motivation. I love hearing your thoughts on the story, and your predictions of certian things (and I especially find it hilarious when you're like "oh, poor...character...wait, what was her name? Did you even mention it?"...he he, all will be revealed in due time)_

_And just incase it wasn't clear before, this story is set fairly late in the game. Like, the next assassination will be Robert de Sable. Yeah, that late. But still predict about another 10 chapters until I wrap this up, maybe. And I've already got the ending (or rather, epilogue) all planned out in my mind, so I hope it works out as awesomely as I think. _

_AND if I *do* write a sequel based on AC 2, it probably won't be updated as regularly as this one. Uni starts again in 2 months (which seems a long way off now) but I've got a long list of other things I want to do and work on as well._

_And that's all I'm going to say for now. I hope you all had an awesome New Year's (I know I did :D) and I hope you liked this chapter. :D (wow, I really over-use those smilies, eh?)_

_If you did, please review :D It will probably encourage me to finish the next one quicker._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Wow, thanks to all you fantastic people who reviewed last time :D You have no idea how much I love the feedback (and compliments, lol) XD_

_So, just for you, here is the next chapter. I hope it meets and exceeds expectations._

* * *

Part 11

The blue loading screen faded away and Al Mualim's office-place was revealed, along with Al Mualim, standing at the window as usual.

"Go hide behind the bookshelf," Altair whispered to me frantically. He dropped me silently and I quickly padded over to the bookshelf on the right side of the room.

The plan had worked. And thankfully, Al Mualim liked to spend copious amounts of time looking out of the window rather than noticing what was happening around him.

"Altair, back from another successful mission, I see. I trust all went well," Al Mualim began, still facing the window.

He turned around. Luckily, I was already situated behind the bookshelf, looking out at the scene between a copy of "_1000 Deadly Poisons And Their Cures_," by Ahmad Cyanide, and "_How To Keep Them Guessing; Dating Tips For The Modern Mysterio_," by Charlie Kissntell.

"It did," the assassin replied finally.

"Nine men, nine lives in exchange for your own. You've completed your tasks well, Altair," Al Mualim continued, "Yet there is a final Templar you must take care of,"

"Robert," Altair replied,

"Yes, Robert de Sable. He is the final pillar in the Templars stronghold. It is his mouth which gives the orders, his hand which pays the gold. He is all that stands between us and victory. With him dies the knowledge of the Templar treasure, and any threat it might pose. Kill him, Altair, and you will be fully restored," He added, "Hell, I'll even throw in a few harems if you do it quickly,"

Wait, what was that? Wow, these cut scenes are a lot more colourful than I remember…perhaps I should've paid more attention.

"But master, about Robert and the treasure…" Altair began,

"You still have questions?" Al Mualim asked, surprised,

"Always. I still don't understand how a simple piece of silver could cause so much chaos," He admitted. I had been waiting for him to ask about that. Still seems pretty crazy to start a war over some old relic.

"The Piece of Eden is temptation in physical form," Al Mualim explained, "Just look at what it's done to Robert. Once he tasted of its power, it consumed him. He saw it not as a dangerous weapon to be destroyed, but a tool to be used. One that's helped him realise his life's ambition,"

"He dreamed of power, then?" Altair suggested,

"Yes, but he also dreamed, still dreams, like us, of peace,"

"But this is a man who sought to see the Holy Land consumed by war!" the assassin pointed out,

"No, Altair, how can you not see when it was you who opened my eyes to this?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do he and his followers want? A world in which all men are united. I do not despise his goal, I share it. But take issue with the means. Peace is something to be learned, to be understood, to be embraced. He would force it, and rob us of our free will in the process," Al Mualim announced dramatically.

His whole change of attitude seemed a little rehearsed to me. I began to absent-mindedly fiddle with the gold charms on the necklace I never took off, like I often did. Suddenly, the charms became loose, and the necklace fell from my neck. I silently swore. My mum kept reminding me that it would eventually happen. I hate it when she's right.

I hadn't heard the thin chain hit the floor, so I assumed it was lost in my robes somewhere. I began to franticly search for it. I'd gotten if for my birthday. I'd hate to loose it.

"It's strange to think of him in this way," Altair remarked, still talking with Al Mualim. Luckily the two men were oblivious to my crisis behind the bookshelf. I hoped the rustling of cloth wouldn't catch their attention.

"Never have a hate for your victims, Altair, such thoughts are poison and will cloud your judgement," the old man replied.

"Could he not be convinced then to end this mad quest?" Altair asked. I paused. Is he actually asking for a non-violent solution? Had my previous outcry at the bloodshed really gotten to him?

"I spoke to him, in my way, through you. What was each killing if not a message? But he has chosen to ignore us." Al Mualim replied. I scoffed. What the hell kind of message is that? Since when does killing off his friends and allies mean "let us discuss a non-violent solution to our problems,". I hoped Altair wasn't actually believing any of this bullshit.

Altair nodded obediently and Al Mualim walked over to the bird cage to fetch a carrier pigeon. "You will find Robert in Jerusalem. He arrived yesterday with a large caravan and sizeable army. They're planning something, and I need you to kill him before they succeed. We must end this war before it consumes the Holy Land. The fate of the world depends on you, Altair,"

"Do we know what they are planning?" Altair asked,

"No. I believe they were originally banking on summoning that demon you mentioned, but with Tailium dead, they're probably moving on to plan B,"

"How do you know they have a plan B?"

"They're Templars, Altair, of course they have a plan B," Al Mualim replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "And they probably have a dozen more after that, all more devious and murderous than the last. If we want peace, the time to strike is now."

"How ironic," I muttered. Al Mualim shot a look in my direction and I clamped my hands over my mouth. How bloody stupid could I be?

"How do I find Robert?" Altair asked quickly.

Al Mualim gave the bookcase one last suspicious look before facing the assassin again. "The same way you usually do. Walk amongst the people and uncover the evil. This is your forth visit there in so many days, so the streets should be familiar to you,"

"…of course,"

"Unlike in Damascus," Al Mualim added.

Altair coughed uncomfortably, "…so you heard about that?"

"Of course I heard. The whole brotherhood heard of it. We've been laughing for days," The old man replied, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yes, well, it was a long and tiring day. Anyone could have made that mistake," Altair replied weakly.

"Oh, I'm sure," Al Mualim replied sarcastically. I definitely don't remember him doing that before.

I remembered my necklace and resumed my search, this time investigating the robes' many pockets. I didn't find it, but I found many other…interesting…items. Including one which seemed very out of place in this ancient time.

"Look, there will be no mishaps this time," Altair replied, sounding frustrated.

"That's ok. We have enough of your stories to keep people sufficiently entertained at the Christmas party this year," Al Mualim assured him. I could just hear Altair glaring.

"Well, I think I have everything I need to go and take care of Robert now," the assassin attempted to end the conversation,

"Of course. Here are the last of your weapons," Al Mualim resumed his usual superior persona, "May they serve you well,"

The room danced with blue pixels, and by the time they faded, Al Mualim was long gone.

There was a clatter of metal as Altair added the extra throwing knives to his reserves. I came out from behind the bookcase, "That sounded like it went well,"

"What were you doing behind the bookcase? I've been to circuses which were quieter than you," Altair asked irritably, "You're just lucky Al Mualim is deaf in his left ear. Otherwise, you would've been found and thrown into the dungeons before you had time to voice one of your loud-mouth excuses,"

"Sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the animus this morning," I remarked stubbornly, "and I was looking for my necklace. It fell off and into my robes somewhere,"

"A necklace? Seriously? You risked being discovered over a stupid piece of jewellery?"

"…it means a lot to me, ok? The last thing I want is to loose it here. Some apprentice assassin will probably find it and gamble it away for a half-eaten apple or something." I replied defensively.

Altair rolled his eyes. "Did you try looking in your neckline?"

I looked down. Miraculously, there it was! The gold chain of my necklace hung out from my cleavage. "There it is! Funny; you'd think I would've looked there first,"

"Indeed," Altair agreed dryly.

"Ah, quit your bitching. Alls well that ends well, right?" I replied, putting my necklace back on. Luckily, the clasp had only come undone, and wasn't broken.

"I don't know how, but having you with me actually makes things even more stressful," the assassin replied, rubbing his temples,

"That's what I'm here for," I shrugged happily, "Besides, this wasn't a total waste of time. While you were busy chatting with Al Mualim about flower arrangements – "

"We were discussing Robert de Sable and the Templar treasure! Don't you ever pay attention to cut scenes?" he demanded angrily,

"I found something rather useful in all these pockets," I continued, purposely ignoring him, "Speaking of which, how many bloody pockets do you assassin's want? I lost count after twenty five!"

Altair sighed. I could see I was wearing down his patience. Part of me was tempted to keep pushing him and see how far he would go. The other part of me was shit-scared that I'd end up getting stabbed. Unfortunately, it wasn't a very dominant part.

"What were you even doing to make your damn necklace fall off?" he asked wearily, trying to go back to the source of the problem, perhaps?

"I dunno, I was fiddling with it and it fell off," I shrugged, "It's no big deal. Good thing it didn't fall far. These things can be tricky, sometimes,"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Stuff seems to end up in my bra quite often. It's rather odd," I said without really thinking. Wait, what did I just say?

"And why do you think that is?" He sounded as if he were too tired or apathetic to care that we were talking about my chest.

"…I wear inappropriate clothes? My boobs are magnetic? I have no idea." I shrugged, trying my best to seem nonchalant, "It's like when you drop a pencil on the floor and it ends up three metres away in someone else's bag. It's a freakin mystery,"

I don't exactly make it a habit to discuss my…features…in front of men I'd only known for a short time…or even a long time. Is there ever really an appropriate time to talk about boobs? Other than the obvious?

"Why are we even talking about this?" He seemed to finally realise what was happening.

"Hey, don't ask me. You brought it up." I feigned innocence.

"A mistake I won't make again," he replied sharply.

"Good. Anyway, the point is, I was looking through all these pockets, and I found something. Guess what it was," I brought us back to what I had been trying to talk about before.

"Do we really have to play this game?"

I nodded. "Yes. Guess,"

"You really are the most annoying person I've come across in a really long time," he sighed.

"And this is coming from Mr Warm and Friendly," I scoffed, "Just guess already,"

"Fine. Did you find…intelligence?" he asked sarcastically.

"Ha ha, hilarious. No, although maybe I could've given it to you. Jerk,"

"Oh, the knowledge of a woman's place," he suggested,

"No, and don't make me slap you," It was my turn to get annoyed.

"I dunno, furry handcuffs?"

I paused. "…strangely, yes. But that's not what I was talking about,"  
"You actually found furry handcuffs?" he asked in disbelief,

"And some other things which I can only assume are sex toys, but that's not the point. I found this," I pulled out the small black metal device.

"…good for you. I'm sure it will come in handy…whatever it is," he replied sarcastically,

"It's a GPS," I explained.

"…a what?"

"You don't know what that is? Um, how can I put it," I mused, "It's a metal thing with a screen. And on that screen is a map. And on the map – "

"The flashing icons. Oh, so you found us the mini map. Why didn't you say so?" he asked,

"I just did. Anyway, now we know where to go!"

"And you had this with you the whole time?"

"I guess so," I shrugged.

"Then why didn't you find it before?"

"I guess I wasn't bored enough to explore every nook and cranny of these robes. You didn't have any long annoying cut scenes before," I rolled my eyes.

"Those cut scenes give out vital information!" He insisted angrily.

"Ok, I know, relax. I was kidding. I _was_ watching. I know what was said. Geeze, you're so tense. You really need a holiday or something,"

"A holiday from you maybe," he remarked,

That was it. I've had it with his snide remarks.

"It's _your_ fault. You're the one who pulled me into this world. I was more than happy just controlling you through the Xbox, but _no_, _someone_ didn't like my orders. _Someone_ thought it would be a good idea to "show me what it's like to be an assassin". I get it, dude, you have a hard life. But you're also strong enough and have the endurance to stand it. Also, you can't die. You're a game character. If you get stabbed a few too many times, you respawn from the last save point," I poked the assassin in the chest for emphasis, "I'd rather be back home where it's nice and safe, because if I die here, I'm probably dead for good. So don't you go complaining about how annoying it is to have me here. You brought me here, so I'm _your_ problem. Get used to it, bitch,"

Altair was stunned from my sudden outburst.

"And besides, you're lost without the mini map. And now we have it back. So be happy and let's move on," I added.

* * *

_OHH, THE CAT HAS CLAWS!_

_Yeah, I'm totally not so sure about this chapter. I mean, I like the first half, but I don't know what I was doing with the rest. Ah well. Next chapter should be better._

_(and I was totally not sure about mentioning the boob thing…I was just trying to give her an excuse to search the robes and find the mini map…seriously…plus, that pencil remark is totally true. As a clumsy person, I'm always dropping stuff, and it always amazingly ends up on the other side of the room…I think the carpet must be bouncy or something.)_

_And I can't claim full ownership for Al Mualim and Altair's conversation. I borrowed much of it from the game's actual cut scene (which is why you may have recognised it. (I managed to find an absolutely awesome person on YouTube who has recorded every cut scene in the game. Such a huge help :D I'm eternally grateful, considering I couldn't find transcripts anywhere.)(and I used the actual dialogue between them, because I'm trying to stay fairly true to the game…the writers did an excellent job, afteral)_

_And I got the name Ahmad from one of my favourite web series, the Leet World. It's an excellent Machinima. And the characters have such cool names, such as Ahmad, Chet, Player, Ellis and Leeroy (hehehe). Look it up if you like funny…or Counter Strike, which I believe is the game they used to animate it. _

_Anyway, that's it for now. Another pushed-forward update, due to the amazing inpour of reviews I got last time. See, I keep my word :D It was amazing to post it, go to bed, and then wake up to find my inbox full of wonderful messages :D You guys rock :D_

_Review if you want the next instalment sooner than planned. ;D_


	12. Chapter 12

__

A/n: I know I said that I would update sooner if you reviewed, and well, it wasn't a total lie. This *is* somewhat ahead of schedule (which is usually exactly a week between reviews), but I'll admit this chapter was delayed a tad more than was intended. But for good reason. For one, I actually decided to resurrect my social life catch up some friends I haven't seen in a while, which I did, and it was awesome fun. But the biggest delaying factor was my computer troubles. My normal PC decided to sacrifice the wireless internet adapter to some heathen god, and forced me to use my mother's slow ancient laptop for internet connectivity. In fact, I posted the last chapter from it. But the longer I used said laptop, the more frustrated I became, until, it left me totally unmotivated to do anything productive, including work on this story. But, luckily, one of the social-life related things I did last week was visit my dear second cousins, and their friend, who had agreed to build me a new computer. While there, I dropped off the cash. And long story short, he finished it over the weekend (cos he is just that awesome) and I picked it up on Monday. And now, I am currently using a lovely, shiny, brand-spanking-new computer :D With much much more room on my hard-drive than the last one, an internet connection that actually works, and photoshop...oh, and lots of games :D But most importantly, I am finally back to feeling my happy, creatively inspired self. If there are any more delays in chapters from here on in, it will be because I am busy re-installing all my old software on to the new hard-drive...or playing Dragon Age: Origins...which is awesome :D I have a female noble human rogue :D She is very awesome. (and I just realised I use that word way too much...quick, someone get me a thesaurus!)

_Anyway, I apologise for the long explanation. No more delays. Here's the chapter:_

* * *

Part 12

We walked down from the mountain fortress in an uncomfortable silence. Altair hadn't said a word since I yelled at him. I think he was still surprised to see me so angry. But I was completely justified. Who the hell does he think he is, anyway? Being all superior and obnoxious like that. As if _he_ isn't ever annoying. And so what if I talk a lot? _He_ doesn't talk enough. Someone's gotta fill the silence.

Altair cleared his throat, and I was sure he was about to say something…but nothing happened.

I sighed. "Sorry for yelling back there. It's just annoying to have you complain about me right in front of my face, like, all the time. Not to mention quite rude,"

"You're right. I've been a real jerk. I was the one who brought you here. I have no right to complain," Altair admitted.

Now I was left speechless. I hadn't expected him to agree with me so readily. "Um, alright then,"

The silence returned, and at least this time it wasn't uncomfortable.

But I was never a fan of any kind of silence. "So what was all that about Damascus?"

Altair smirked. "So you don't remember?"

"Don't remember what?"

"You _should_ remember. It was your fault afterall," he continued, smiling in amusement,

"What was my fault? What happened?" Why couldn't he ever just give me a straight answer?

"Ok, I'll refresh your memory. Do you remember when I had to kill Abu'l?"

"The fat crazy Templar?" I asked, surprised that his name was still familiar to me,

"They're all crazy, but yes,"

"Sort of. What about it?" I asked.

"Well, as you'll recall, we were charged with killing five knights in five minutes, in exchange for information from one of my brothers," Altair recalled,

"You mean that assassin with the high-pitched voice? He's your brother?"

"Well, not biologically speaking, but he's of the brotherhood. You've been playing this game long enough; you should know how it works. Keep up,"

"Ok, I think I vaguely remember that mission. But we do a lot of those 'kill these people for me and I'll tell you something entirely useless' missions. I hate those." I remarked.

"Yes, they are annoying," he agreed,

"I mean, these people are they assassins too, are they not? Why can't they take care of their own problems? "Oh, I twisted my ankle!" What a pathetic excuse," I mocked.

"Yes, I do wonder what kind of people Al Mualim is letting through the brotherhood these days, but that's not the point," Altair replied, "During this particular mission, there was an instance where were stalking one of the knights from the rooftops. You propelled me off the ledge of a building towards another which was over ten metres away – "

"Not my fault. It's hard to tell the distance from that camera angle," I pointed out.

Altair ignored me and continued, "And while I missed the roof completely, I managed to get to the wall and grab onto a window-box - "

"My plan from the start," I nodded smugly.

"No it wasn't, and stop interrupting! Anyway, I got to the window box, and just as I had reached the top and was climbing up to the roof, the wooden panels of the box broke – '

"Oh, I remember that. And then you fell inside. Probably one of the few times I've ever actually seen inside a building," I mused.

Altair nodded, "Yes, and if you remember that, then you should also remember what we found inside that building…"

I thought back for a moment. It was rather early on in the game, afterall. "..wait a sec, are you talking about that time you fell though the window-box and into the room of the naked people?"

By this time, we had reached the higher buildings in Maslaf. Perhaps I had said that last part a tad too loud, as surrounding pedestrians shot me strange looks.

"Yes, I am referring to that instance," Altair replied quietly, noticing the other people too, "How many other times have I fallen through a window-box?"

"By my count? About five…no, wait three. Two of those times were merchant stands," I corrected myself.

"Right. Those window-boxes are a lot less structurally stable than they look," Altair remembered.

"Yeah, perhaps the designer working on them was drunk that day or something," I suggested.

"Probably. Anyway, back to the story,"

"Ah yes, the naked people," I said enthusiastically, earning more dirty looks.

"So, as you might expect, said naked people were somewhat startled by my crash-entrance, and the man, no wait, _one_ of the men there got rather angry and chased me from the room with a sword – "

"Yeah, why is it that everyone in this game is armed to the teeth, anyway? It's as bad as America with their guns," I remarked,

"Hey, what did I say about interrupting?" He reminded me half-heartedly,

"Sorry. Please go on,"

"So yes, the man chased us, well, me, through the house, where I made a wrong turn and ended up in the laundry room," he continued, "The washing-woman freaked out and threw the dress she was washing on me. I then escaped through a window where I landed right in the middle of a group of guards,"

"Oh, I definitely remember this now," I grinned.

Altair sighed. "Needless to say, within minutes, word of guards fighting an assassin in a dress – "

"Or very ugly woman…in a dress,"

He glared, "…had spread to the rest of the city, and an audience of over a hundred people witnessed me get slaughtered."

"Ha ha, just remembering that still makes me laugh," I laughed fondly.

"Yes, I'm sure it would've been hilarious to watch. But I found it completely embarrassing, funnily enough," He huffed, "And painful."

"And after all that, you still had to re-do the mission, killing those damn knights. That was annoying," I sighed sympathetically.

"Yes, that was indeed the worst part of the day," Altair replied sarcastically.

"Aw, lighten up. At least that can't happen in Jerusalem. We know where all the rickety window-boxes are already, so you won't make that mistake again." I said optimistically.

Altair rolled his eyes, which I took as tentative agreement. We passed the balcony where that guy who we first interrogated back in the first memory block had been preaching. Even though he was long gone, I could still hear snippets of his speech, like an echo of the memory. I wondered if Altair could hear it too.

I spotted a small group of guards on the edge. They seemed to be collaborating something. One of them, a rough-looking guard with a long scar down his cheek, looked up. He stared straight at me and I had a sudden urge to disappear, as his piercing blue eyes seemed to see right though to my soul…if that's at all possible. I felt a shiver down my spine and I gripped Altair's arm for comfort, while trying not to look pathetic and glaring back.

The assassin looked down at me. "What are you doing?"

"There's a guard over there. I don't like the way he's looking at me." I replied, finally tearing my eyes from the sinister man and focusing on the road ahead. Oblivious townsfolk continued to meander along around us.

Altair glanced back. "How was he looking at you?"

"With anger or contempt…disgust? Longing? Hell, I don't know. I'm no good at reading expressions like that. But I didn't like it,"

"What, did the mean the guard scare you?" he asked jokingly.  
"Well, yes, he did. It was like he was seeing right through me. I felt cold," I replied in all seriousness. I shuddered at the memory. I could still see those cold blue eyes, burned into my memory. It was like nothing I had ever seen before, in this world or my own.

Altair looked back at the guards again. "Well, no-one's looking now," he replied.

"What's the deal with those guards, anyway? Are they on our side or what?" I asked,

"Do you mean, are they with the brotherhood? I'm not sure. I don't think they're working for the Templars, but you can't really be sure," Altair replied thoughtfully, "I've tried to bring it up with Al Mualim several times, but he keeps changing the subject. All I know is, they turn hostile pretty quickly if you pull out any weapons here,"

"I just hope that's the only reason they'd turn hostile,"

We passed through the gate, exiting the city. Altair shook me off. "Come on, look lively. We've got a long way to go,"

"We're not going to have to walk all the way to wherever, are we?" I asked wearily,

"No, of course not. Have I ever walked all the way though the Kingdom?"

"Well, there was that one time in the beginning before I realised we had horses," I admitted.

"Yes, but now you're aware of the horses…" he hinted,

I grinned. "We're going to ride?"

"Of course. Do you know how ride?" he asked.

"Yeah, mostly. I mean, the last time I rode a horse was for my thirteenth birthday, but it's like riding a bike, right? Once you learn, you never forget,"

"I don't know about that. Just let me know if I have to tie you into the saddle," he replied teasingly,

I ignored him and bounded over to the make-shift stable with the usual collection waiting horses, next to the city wall. "Which one is mine?" I asked excitedly.

"Whichever one you want. I don't mind," Altair shrugged.

"Awesome," I inspected the three possible mounts. The all-white mare whinnied and looked at me sternly. I decided to pass and checked out the next one. He was a dark-brown horse, who was busy drinking from the trough. I tried to get his attention, but he ignored me and continued on drinking. Wow, what great options.

The last horse seemed a little friendlier. I came up to the black mare with the white stripe down her nose (a marking I had been told the name of in one of my Uni lectures, but forgotten…like much of what was said at those lectures). She lifted her head from the pile of hay and sniffed my hand, sneezing straw into my face.

"I choose this one," I called to the assassin.

Altair stood by the white horse, stroking its neck affectionately. White horse, white robes; they seemed to go well together.

"Great," he replied.

"I name you Biscuit," I told my horse. She sneezed in my face again.

"Biscuit?" Altair asked,

"…what's wrong with Biscuit?" I replied defensively.

"…nothing I guess. You don't have to name the horse, by the way. She probably doesn't even understand,"

"Don't be stupid. Horses are highly intelligent. Of course they understand. You should name yours," I insisted.

"…why?"

"Because I said so. Go on, what are you going to call her?"

Altair looked at the white mare thoughtfully. "Osprey,"

"Interesting," I replied.

"What? You don't like it?"

"No, it's just there seems to be a bird theme going on here. Or a bird-of-prey theme,"

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, we've got all the eagles flying about, and then there's your name, which translates into eagle in English. Do you have a thing for birds, or something?" I asked.

Altair shrugged. "Eagles and Ospreys are master hunters; striking from above and brining death with little warning. You could say we have some things in common,"

I nodded in agreement, "I guess. Although it's a little odd to name a horse after another species,"

"Yes, about as odd as it is to name one after food," the assassin shot back.

"...touché,"

"Well, we'd better get going," Altair swung himself into the saddle.

It took me three or four (or five or six) attempts to do the same. It's easy to forget how tall horses are until they're standing right in front of you. I took a few moments to get used to the sudden height from the saddle, securing my feet in the straps and clutching the reigns tightly. Biscuit shuffled below me, adjusting to the added weight.

Altair and Osprey trotted onto the road leading to the Kingdom. "Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, "Let's go,"

And so I followed the assassin (albeit shakily) riding along the road, and out into the Kingdom, managing to only startle four peasants along the way with near-death experiences.

_

* * *

_

Disclaimer; No offence to any Americans here, with the gun thing. I just don't really know how you guys can feel safe in a country where they sell guns at supermarkets (although the rumour that you can get firearms at Wal-Mart may be an over-exaggerated myth). But then again, here in Aust we have still have gun violence too. Albeit considerably less, but I guess just because something illegal doesn't mean people aren't going to get it somehow. (Like an uncensored version of L4D2. Thank you illegal British downloads :D)

_Anyway, wow, I can't believe how many of you awesome fantastic spectacular people reviewed last chapter. And right away too. So awesome :D I never get tired of reading them. _

_A few people who didn't sign in to review asked some things, so I'm going to respond to them here. _

_I looked it up, and I believe the Assassin's Creed novel is called "Assassin's Creed: Renaissance". But I read somewhere that you guys in the US won't be getting it until the 23__rd__ of February. If you want it before then, I suppose you might be able to order it from the UK or Australia, or on eBay. It's strange that we'd have something before you guys…kinda makes me feel special :D (Now if only they would do the same with video games…)(Why should I have to wait a year for my Harvest Moon???)_

_And also, I've made notes about a possible sequel with AC2. So far, I have an idea of a part of plot, but it's hard to say until I play the game. _

_So yeah. If you are going to ask questions in your reviews (which you're more than welcome to do), it helps if you sign in so I can reply. I try reply to all my reviews, usually right before I upload the next chapter. So if you suddenly get a reply from me, it could mean a chapter is about to follow :D_

_Well, that's all from me for now. Until next time, folks! (dammit, these Authors Notes are getting long)_

_As usual, review to motivate me to update ahead of schedule. :D :D :D_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/n:__ Ok, first off, I apologise for this not being posted sooner. I hope that this whole making excuses for not posting as soon as I promised thing won't become a habit, but to be fair, I never specified what my update schedule is, so for all you know, this is still ahead of it..._

_And secondly, you have to understand that this is the longest I've stayed with a story in one go without letting it fall into ambiguous hiatus, and also the fastest I've been writing it. I've been giving you at least 1 chapter a week for 13 chapters, that's pretty damn good. I say we're making progress._

_But admittedly, I have been spending my time rather frivolously, mostly playing Dragon Age (which is officially my new favourite game. And Alistair, my new favourite fictional character of all time (or at least favourite romance-able character of all time)), and then yesterday I stayed back a few more hours at work (yes, I have paid employment) because quite frankly, I need the money after the small fortune I recently spent on my computer. And, you know, since I'm boarding on campus for Uni this year, I'll need the cash since I'll will probably end up spending most of my money on booze...(lol, I love our legal drinking age of 18 :D)_

_If it makes you feel any better, I'm also behind on my weekly web comic. I haven't really done anything constructive lately other than a few crappy doodles on the back of an unwanted receipt (work was rather boring yesterday) and a short 300 word segment for my novel where one of the gay characters (he's a side character mostly, but so adorable that I decided to give him more page time) is fantasising about the object of his affections, much to the horror of his friend (who is psychic...did I not mention that my novel is about teenage superheroes with superpowers? Cos it is :D). And I mean, erotic fantasies are harder to ignore than normal thoughts, so the poor telepath is not amused (and also not gay, so you couldn't even say it's saving him money on porn XD). Yes, that's what I've been writing instead of this. Aren't you proud?_

_And thanks for all the wonderful reviews last chapter :D You people are so awesome, I think I love you :D And, the general feeling I get is that each state in the US is different, in terms of stocking guns at Wal-Mart. Thank you for clearing that up. xD_

_Anyway, here, at long last, is chapter 13. This chapter annoys me because it was so hard to just get out and write, but the next one should be easier. I believe Malik will be back. Yay, Malik :D_

* * *

Part 13

I yawned, for the fifth time that hour. I hadn't realised how tired and sleep-deprived I was until I had been sitting in the saddle. Biscuit continued along the path, luckily not requiring my energy to move. This is way better than cycling.

"Where are we going, again?" I asked Altair, who was riding along next to me.

"Jerusalem," he replied

"Again? But we were just there!" I protested,

"Yes, but that's irrelevant. Robert and his caravan just arrived in Jerusalem and so that's where we must go," he said simply.

"Damn. Why does he have to be in stupid Jerusalem? What's so good about that place anyway?"

"Well, other than the religious significance, it's also where the Templars organise most of their strategies. But if we had been a bit quicker with Tailium, perhaps we would be headed to Acre. That's where Robert has been for the last month until now," Altair replied.

"So we're missing out on Acre for Jerusalem? That sucks. I really like Acre. It's the one place I actually wanted to go to, since I'm in the game now,"

"What's so good about Acre?"

"I dunno. It's got the blue tinge, the historically inaccurate cockney accents, the plague; it's just like England…or at least, what you'd expect if the British Empire took over a city in the Holy Land…which may be what happened," I replied,

"...yes, those are all marvellous selling points for Acre," the assassin replied sarcastically,

"Besides, I've always wanted to try out my British accent on real English people," I added, "'ello gov'ner, fancy a spot o' tea?"

"If there were any British people here right now, I'm sure they'd be very offended," said Altair solemnly.

"Ah fiddlesticks,"

Altair sighed and rolled his eyes, "If you're that keen, maybe we can take a trip to Acre once all this is done,"

"Really?"

"No, of course not. You'll have to go home," he reminded me,

"Dammit, no fair. Stupid Jerusalem," I swore, "But on the plus side, Jerusalem doesn't have any docks,"

"That is indeed a good point," he agreed in earnest,

"Yeah, those were certainly annoying. Especially all the drunken loons. With them around, that place is a death trap,"

"Ha, you're telling me. How many times did it take for you to have me kill Sibrand? 8? 9?"

"More like 12. But that's not my fault. That's yours. I can't believe you can't swim!" I exclaimed.

"Hey, I can swim. I may live in a desert, but I still know how to swim." Altair replied defensively.

"You call this a desert? You have the freaking Nile! If you wanna see a desert, come to my country. The only we water we have out there are a couple of salty puddles," I replied. Pft, desert indeed. "And if you're so great at swimming, why do you dissolve like a sugar cube every time you fall into the water?"

"I don't know. I don't usually have that problem. Something must be wrong with the system," he deflected, "and besides, if you had been better at controlling me, I wouldn't have fallen into the water so much, anyway,"

"Not my fault you kept missing the boats…and the wooden posts,"

"Actually, it is," He pointed out.

I narrowed my eyes. "Shut up. You know what? Maybe I _don't _want to go to Acre,"

"Good, because we're not," he said simply.

Biscuit sneezed again, distracting me from the dead argument. I began to wonder if she had hay-fever or something. That's kinda unfortunate for a horse. Almost as bad as a bird who's afraid of heights. Talk about depressing.

The rhythm of clip-clopping hooves became the dominant sound as we continued to stroll in silence along the dirt paths of Kingdom. I yawned again. The desert landscape was incredibly bright, causing me to squint blearily. It's a shame I didn't think to bring my sunglasses with me. The road ahead of me began to shake unsteadily...no, wait, that's me. After trying to ignore and fight it off for hours, I was finally overcome with exhaustion. I gave in, and let sleep finally take me.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of hooves on gravel. The first thing I noticed were the pair of strong arms holding me up. I was sitting on Osprey, with Altair behind me.

"...what's going on?" I asked, stifling another yawn.

"You fell sleep," Altair replied, not taking his eyes off the road, "I managed to catch you before you fell off your horse,"

"And so you've been carrying me since then?"

"I couldn't find any rope to tie you on," he replied.

Right. "Well, since I'm awake now..."

Altair nodded and edged back in his saddle to give me room. I swung my leg over, narrowly missing the Osprey's head, and jumped down. I landed heavily. It had been higher up than I expected. Biscuit trotted over and sniffed my hair, taking the opportunity to sneeze bits of grass into my face again. Ignoring it, I rubbed her nose and jumped back into my own saddle, feeling much more alert and refreshed. It's amazing how well I managed to sleep on horseback. I guess running and jumping around Jerusalem will make you tired enough that any rest is good enough.

"Um, thanks for not letting me fall," I said to Altair,

"That's ok. It was actually useful having you on my horse," the assassin replied.

I raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

"Well for one, I was only hassled by guards once, and they backed off once I told them some we were going to visit family in Jerusalem. Two people are much less suspicious than one,"

"Really?"

"Yes, it would seem you're much more useful asleep than awake," he remarked.

"Funny,"

"I thought so,"

"Did they ask of the nature of our relationship?" I inquired,

"Yes. I said you were my sister,"

A tiny part of me was disappointed. "Ah, I see. And they bought that?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Well, it's not like we look alike or anything," I explained, "...but then again, I don't really resemble my real brother anyway..."

"You have a brother?" Altair asked, surprised.

"Yeah,"

"He is...footyhead2000?"

"Yes, that's his gamer-tag. How did you know?"

"Well, he's the only other person that I've seen play," the assassin shrugged.

I nodded, "Lately he's been playing more than me, which is totally unfair since it's _my_ Xbox, and I'm the one who paid for it. I should totally start charging him,"

"He has a very different game-play style to you," Altair continued,

"I've noticed. Not much for stealth that one. He likes to run you through the streets, trampling whoever has the misfortune to get in your way," I agreed.

"Yes, he's very reckless. Next time you see him, tell him if he does it again, I'll pull him in here and drive _him_ through a wall of people, see how he likes it," Altair promised, "Just because I don't say anything, doesn't mean it isn't painful,"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked, "My brother has none of my charm and wit,"

"Really? He sounds like an improvement,"

I reached over the punched Altair in the arm, before losing my balance and almost falling off Biscuit. Luckily, Altair caught me with his cat-like reflexes and pushed me back up.

"Was that worth it?" he asked smugly,

I sniffed and tried to regain what dignity I had left, "Yes,"

Biscuit whinnied. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was laughing at me.

"How long was I out?" I asked, moving the conversation along the best way I knew how; by asking questions.

"A few hours. Why? Do you need more sleep?"

"No, I feel fine. How far do we have left, then?"

"Well, perhaps if I had the mini-map, I could see where we are," he replied slyly.

I took the hint and started to search the many pockets in my assassin robes. Several minutes passed, and Altair sighed impatiently. "What's taking so long?" he asked.

"I can't find it," I replied, moving on from the secret inside pocket above my knee to the one under the sleeve.

"You lost the mini-map?" He asked in disbelief,

"I didn't lose it," I protested, "I just can't find it right now,"

"Yeah, that's generally what loosing something means,"

"I know it's in here somewhere. Why the hell are there so many pockets!?"

Altair sighed again and rubbed his temples, "I knew I shouldn't have let you keep it,"

Finally, my hands found something flat and metal. "I found it!" I pulled out the mini-map triumphantly.

"About time,"

"Shut up, it's not my fault who ever designed these robes was an eccentric moron," I snapped, "I mean, seriously, how the hell is having this many pockets practical for an assassin?"

Altair shrugged, "Well, we have a lot of stuff to carry,"

"What stuff? You only have four weapons, and one of them is on your wrist. You don't even have an inventory. All your blades have their own button. What else are you possibly carrying?"

"Well, what did you find?" he challenged.

"...other than the sex toys you mean?"

"Well of course,"

I went back to the nearest pockets and began pulling out items, "...hmm, bits of string, band-aids, loaded dice –"

"Really? I lost my pair,"

"...rubber bands and paperclips? What is this? MacGyver?" I questioned,

"Hey, don't ask me. I didn't put them there,"

"And what are these?" I asked, holding out small colourful packets of some sort of powder. I sniffed the orange one curiously. "Is that almonds?"

"Don't do that, you'll go blind," he snatched the orange packet away, "They're various toxins. Poisons and itching powder. That sort of thing,"

I hastily put them back, "Wait, you're telling me you have poison?"

"I'm an assassin, of course I do,"

"Does everyone have this stuff?"

"You appear to have a standard set of robes, with all the standard equipment, so yes, everyone has these items,"

"Seriously? And the sex toys?"

"Once again, I'm not in charge of equipment. Bring it up with Al Mualim if you must," he shrugged.

"And what about the poisons?"

"What about them?"

"Have you ever used them?"

"Of course, it's my favourite method of assassination. Much less messy than the blades,"

"Then how come I've ever seen you poison anyone?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess the game designers didn't think it was exciting enough to actually use. How would you like to sit there and watch me pour some mysterious powder in someone's drink, and then hide away to see if it works,"

"...that sounds like fun to me," I protested.

"Well I guess you're one of the rare ones,"

"I guess so," I replied, fiddling with the mini-map. I was determined not to lose it in the sea of pockets again.

"So, how far away are we from Jerusalem?" Altair asked.

I zoomed the out map. "We're three quarters of the way there. Strange, usually it takes much less time,"

"Well, ordinarily, I don't have to slow walk the entire way. But I figured you might fall off if we ran," he explained,

"Oh, well, thanks again for that,"

"Don't mention it," Altair grumbled,

I rolled my eyes, "Sure thing, tough guy,"

"And I mean that. Malik and the others will think I'm going soft if he hears,"

I laughed, "Somehow, I don't think that's the impression they're going to get. But whatever, I won't say a word,"

"Thank you,"

"And now that I'm awake...how about I race you to Jerusalem?" I challenged.

Altair grinned. "You're on!"

* * *

_FYI, I wanted to get this out to you ASAP, so I didn't get the chance to proof-read it my usual twenty times. If there are any mistakes; spelling, grammatical or otherwise, let me know. _

_Oh_, _and_ _I totally drew a sketch the other day of Altair and...well, me. It's in blue pen, and surprisingly better than I thought. I don't usually use blue pen to draw, because the fact you can't erase your mistakes quite frankly scares me. You have no idea how much I erase stuff when I draw. I usually know I'm done when all the white parts around the drawing are smudged...as well as the side of my hand, which doesn't help matters XD. _

_Anyway, it's a fairly crappy sketch, and I only mention it cos it's sitting on the desk in front of me, along with my other sketchbooks. I also tried to draw Biscuit, but without really knowing what angle to use, and without a reference, she just looks like shit. And don't even get me started on Malik (at least he has one arm...)_

_I really shouldn't draw from memory XD_

_I'd like to gush more about my love for Dragon Age, but I think I'll refrain...although I'll say that the writers are geniuses. Seriously, the dialogues between the characters are pure epic win. Look them up in the wiki if you want, it's so awesome. I especially love the conversations Zeveran has with people :D He's so shameless, he'll hit on anyone (and I mean, *anyone*). I especially love what he says to Alistair. And Dog (lol, creative name...not my choice. I would've named him Pumpkin...food names FTW!) XD God I love this game so much (...although Assassin's Creed is still totally awesome, don't get me wrong...*ahem*) _

_Anyway, as usual, review! Maybe this time I'll actually update when I'm supposed to (haha, unlikely...but you never know...I'll have to tear myself away from Dragon Age first...and I just downloaded some DLC...no, writing should come first!)_

_So yeah, leave me lots of reviews and convince me why I should write this instead of stare at my beloved Alistair all day XD (or abuse me for breaking promises. Either way)_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: It was hard to write this chapter. The peasants' outcry reminded me of my favourite Flight of the Conchords song, "Albi the racist dragon". And then I spent about 2 hours watching the video on youtube again and again...XDDD_

_Ps. Lady Gaga is awesome. Her songs are so fun to write to, lol. _

* * *

Part 14

After what seemed like an eternity on the road (an eternity that I slept through three quarters of), we finally arrived at Jerusalem. Seeing the large famous city from the top of the hill was breath-taking. Not quite as good as the view from that gigantic tower, but much easier to get to...and get down from. I watched jealously as Altair weaved Osprey with ease in between the constant stream of pedestrians, while Biscuit rambled along, drawn to the people like a speeding metal train to powerful magnets.

"Watch where you're going! You almost killed me!" a man protested as I ambled away.

Biscuit wheezed, which sounded suspiciously like laughter.

I pulled on her reigns and tried to lead her around the people, along the edge of the road. Somehow, she still managed to just narrowly miss a woman walking the opposite way.

I ignored her shrieks and caught up to Altair. "How do you do that so well?" I asked.

"What? Not kill people? It's quite easy. I just don't aim for them," he replied.  
"You think I'm doing this on purpose? I'm trying to _avoid_ all the people. It's like my horse actually enjoys scaring them half to death,"

Biscuit wheeze-laughed again.

"It's not funny. We could get us in trouble with the guards. Then they'll cut you down. Is that what you really want?" I asked her.

"...you do realise you're talking to a horse, right?" Altair interrupted.  
"Shut up. She understands. She understands very well. She's too smart for her own good," I eyed my horse suspiciously. Biscuit dipped her head innocently.

I saw Osprey roll his eyes. Yep, that proves it; these horses are definitely much smarter than they look.

"Sure she understands," Altair replied sarcastically, "Next you'll be telling me I'm going to fall in love with a templar," he laughed at his own joke.

I bit my tongue. I had heard something not completely unlike that in the forums...but perhaps it's best that he finds out for himself. The look on his face will be priceless.

Altair was still chuckling by the time we reached the camp outside the gate. Ah, the irony of it all. I jumped down from the saddle and led Biscuit to the large pile of hay, next to the other grazing horses.

"I might not ever see you again," I told the mare, "and if that's the case, I want you to know that you're the first and greatest horse I've ever had,"

As if in response, Biscuit sneezed in my face.

"I love you too, buddy,"

"You're insane," Altair remarked, jumping off his own horse. Osprey licked the side of his face affectionately.

"Stay safe, my friend. You have served me well," he muttered to the white stallion.

I looked at him smugly.

"What?" He asked defensively, "It's hard to find a good horse around here,"

I rolled my eyes, "Hypocrite,"

"Come on, let's just go,"

Altair led us to a group of waiting scholars. "Greetings Davreth," he addressed one of them.

"Nice to see you again, Altair," the robed scholar replied, "Do you and your friend require entrance to the city?"

"If it's no trouble,"

"Ok then, stay quiet and blend in,"

The scholars moved into formation, and I took a position in the middle, following Altair's lead. It was a lot harder to blend in like this in real life compared to when playing from the couch. All I had to do then was press a button and then press it again when I got to my destination. Here, I had to actually walk. Oh, the horror.

We approached the guards without incident, and they let us pass without even a second glance. We were almost through and out the other side too, when suddenly, a rogue pebble appeared and I tripped.

You know that surreal feeling you have when you're falling, and you know you're going to fall, and you're know it's going to hurt? Yeah, it's way scarier when you're surrounded by armed guards.

I reached out desperately for something to slow my fall, but as luck would have it, the only thing I managed to grasp was a red guards uniform. Swift hands caught me before I hit the ground, but the damage was done. I had jerked the guard out of position, and my hood had fallen down. I was close enough that I could actually see his pupils dilate in recognition.

The disgruntled man grabbed my wrist and shouted, "Assassin!"

The hands which had kindly caught me before pushed me back to my feet and disappeared, reappearing with a short blade as it was thrust into the guard's chest. Altair pulled me away. "Run!" He shouted as he parried off two more guards who had come to the aid of their fallen comrade. My common sense told me to obey, but I couldn't just leave the man who had saved my life at least twice. Instead, I ran up to one of Altair's attackers and kicked him in the shins. He spun around just long enough for Altair's sword to separate his head from his shoulders.

And trust me; as cool as it looks in the game, it's completely horrific up close. I really can't stress that enough.

Altair kicked the last guard in the chest and knocked him into the wall, before finishing him off with a final stab. I looked around at the massacre. I hadn't even seen him take out all eight of the guards, yet there they lay, bloodied and lifeless. The scholars had long since fled the battle, along with any other peasants which might have been here previously.

"Can't you go ten minutes without alerting the entire city to our presence? And I thought I told you to run," Altair remarked sternly, wiping splashes of blood from his face.

"And where would I run to?" I challenged, "I don't know this city as well as you. God knows I wouldn't be able to outrun anyone who came after me. And how would you find me again? It's better I stayed,"

"Well now we'll have to move quickly. We've only got a few minutes until someone notices the great bloody mess on their doorstep,"

"Where to?"

"The Bureau, of course,"

And without another word, Altair ran into the nearest back-alley and scaled the wall. Cursing his lack of communication, I scampered after him.

* * *

Our initial race to the bureau had dissolved into a slow walk along the roof-tops. There were no guards up here to interrupt our progress, surprisingly enough, which also left us without motivation to hurry. But it wasn't like Altair to amble.

"So, is there a reason why you're so hesitant to get to the bureau?" I asked,

"What are you talking about? I'm not hesitating," the assassin replied,

"Then we're going on a leisurely stroll for fun?"

"...ok, I might be delaying," he admitted.

"And why would that be?"

Altair gave me a pained look.

"Ah, you don't want to see Malik,"

"I am dreading our next encounter, yes,"

"But why? Things didn't seem that bad last time. It almost sounded like you two were making progress in repairing your friendship," I replied,

"Somehow I doubt it would be that easy. He still hates me," Altair replied, with a hint of sadness.

"Well you can't really blame him. I mean, he did lose an arm. And his brother."

"I know, and the knowledge haunts me every day, but what can I do? I can't bring back the dead. Or dead limbs,"

"Yes, resurrecting the deceased is certainly not a good idea. And it's a shame you guys don't have the technology to give Malik a replacement arm. I swear we're just months away from robotic limbs in my world," I mused. And every day brings me closer to Edward Elric. "But you shouldn't give up. It sounds like you two used to be pretty close,"

"Like brothers," Altair agreed,

"Then brothers shouldn't be able to split so easily. There's still hope,"

"You're very optimistic. Too much so, perhaps,"

"Well someone's gotta be around here," I replied, "Everyone else is about as joyful as depressed puppy...with three legs. And that's more accurate for some people than others,"

The assassin scoffed at my analogy, "Don't tell that one around Malik. He's still sensitive about the missing arm,"

"I can imagine,"

Suddenly, I had a brilliant idea, "Hey, I think I know a way to help you deal with any awkwardness between you two in the bureau,"

"Really? What?"

"Well," I explained, "It seems that the last few times we've all met together, you two seemed to really bond over one thing,"

"And what was that?"

"Making fun of me,"

"...Yeah, I guess," He admitted, "So what about it?"

"Well, the next time there's an awkwardly tense moment, or he's glaring murderously at you or something, simply deflect it to me,"

"...you're saying I should insult you?"

"Well, not really insult. Just make fun of. You know, pay me out about my hair, or how crap I am at this assassin thing. I dunno, it's up to you," I suggested, "But mention my weight, and I'll beat you up,"

"Interesting idea. But why would I mention your weight? You're not fat,"

"Oh, um, thanks," I often wonder if people say that because it's true, or they're just being polite...deceitful bastards, "So, what do you think?"

"I guess it makes sense, but why would you give me free licence to insult you? That's kind of strange," He pointed out.

"Yeah, but it's kind of like a game. The guys in high school used to play it all the time. I'm used to it,"

"They used to insult you?" He asked, shocked,

"Yeah, but it was never really malicious...I don't think. And by the end, it was actually kind of fun, playing along," I explained, "I haven't seen these guys in years. To be honest, I kinda miss the attention,"

"...that's a little odd,"

"Yeah? Well you try growing up as the loner. I was just glad to be visible," I shrugged.

"...and you're sure you don't mind?" He asked,

"Really, it's fine. Reminds me of my high school days. I miss them. University isn't the same..." I replied nostalgically.

"Well, if you say so. It _could_ be fun,"

"Yeah, just don't get too carried away," I warned,  
"Too late, you already gave me permission," Altair teased.

I narrowed my eyes, "Don't abuse my kindness, assassin. I'm well versed in the back-story. I could just as easily turn Malik totally against you,"

"Fair enough. I promise not to go too far," he assured me.

"Thank you,"

Moments passed, and that all too familiar clinking of pottery reminded us that we were nearing our destination.

"I hope you plan works," Altair said one last time.

"So do I, Altair, so do I," I replied solemnly.

"...why are you being so dramatic?"

"...shut up,"

* * *

_I would've posted this yesterday, but I was called up last minute to do a 6 hour shift at work, and didn't get back until midnight, and then I still went online and finished off the chapter, but by the time I was done (which was about 4am...I was also role playing with my friends on MSN XD), my internet had decided to be a bitch and die, refusing to fix itself. So I went to bed, had about 5 hours sleep, got up and went back to work to do my actual scheduled weekly shift. And now here I am, writing this explanation to you, having just managed to upload. And there we are, that's the story. At least you can't say I don't try. ^^; ( And at least I'll be getting lots of monies this week :D)_

_Anyway, because I'm a dirty whore who can't finish what she started before starting something else, you may be pleased to know I've written about a page and a half of the sequel. Already, I know. There are some details I'll probably have to change later once I get a better feel for the game, but still, it's a beginning. Also, it's gonna take a slightly different approach to this one (naturally. Otherwise I'd just be reposting this but swapping names like Altair, Jerusalem and Malik for Ezio, Venice and Leonardo...and that's highly uncreative) but I hope you'll still like it. _

_Also, a few chapters ago, you guys helped me break the 100 review milestone. Wow. Thank you :D This officially makes Assassin's Revenge my most popular fanfic ever (well, fanfic that I didn't co-write. But MAT has about 4 years on this one). You cannot imagine how happy I am at that. I'm not sure if it's because this is a popular fandom with more exposure, or if it's because my writing is just that good (haha, I think it's more likely the former), but either way, thank you :D_

_And you may have noticed I tend to use many references in my work. Usually they come from whatever game/book/tv show, etc I happen to be into at the moment. Except for the MacGyver one last chapter. I've never actually seen that...no, wait, I lie, I've seen the end of 1 episode. _

_There's a Bioshock reference that I wrote in ages ago which will appear in a few chapters' time. That was back when I was totally in love with Bioshock. It's still an awesome game. I can't wait for Bioshock II to come out in a few months :D_

_If I could find a way to incorporate Dragon Age in here, believe me, I totally would. Maybe I will. Maybe I already have. Who knows? But I certainly don't add in references for the sake of references. I only do it if it works. Otherwise, there's no point unless the game companies are going to pay me for all the advertising I'm doing. XD_

_And now, please Review away, as usual. For motivation, and all that. :D (cos that's what I really need right now. I'm stuck on ideas for next chapter ^^; )_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/n; Thank you so much again to all the people who reviewed last chapter. I love reading them so much, especially the long ones. It's nice to know I have such awesome and wonderful readers :D_

_And just quickly, I recently found an amazing AC fanfic that I'd like to share with you, as much as I hate to admit that there are better writers than me out there ^^; It's short, but really sweet and so true to the game, I already consider it as good as canon in my mind. Check it out: http:/ /nevar23 .deviant art. com/ art/ The -Boat- 84427864 (without the spaces)._

* * *

Part 15

"Ah, girl! And the Novice. Back so soon?" Malik called as we walked into the bureau.

I could see Altair tense up beside me. What a great start.

"Yep, we heard Robert de Sable was in town. I've been meaning to have a nice chat with him. And when I say "I", I mean "Altair", and when I say "nice chat", I mean "Stab session"," I replied eloquently. Shit, I could write poetry.

"Having the girl do your talking for you now, Altair? Did you run out of snarky comments?" Malik persisted.

"The only one being snarky here is you, Malik," Altair replied. Yeah, _great_ come-back...

"And as clever as ever, I see. I guess some things never change," Malik continued. He really seemed in the mood to start a fight today.

"Is that a new haircut?" I asked him suddenly.

Caught off-guard, Malik hesitated, "...no. Why?

"I dunno. Something about you just looks...different today," I replied, stroking my imaginary beard thoughtfully.

"...different as in good or different as in bad?"

"I'm not sure. Just...different,"

"...what the hell are you talking about?" He asked finally.

I grinned. Best way to distract someone; ask them a completely random question. Works every time.

"...So I take it the master has already sent word of our mission here?" Altair asked, bringing us back to business.

"Of course," Malik replied, "Like he does every single other time."

"Perhaps this will be the last time,"

"For now, at least,"

"Maybe you're right," Altair nodded, "Just because I've killed Robert, it doesn't mean I won't have other reasons to return to Jerusalem,"

The yaoi fangirl inside me wanted to read too much into that, but I wouldn't let it.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Malik replied stiffly, "Besides, I'm sure a novice like yourself will have plenty of training to do when all this is done. Then maybe _one day_ you will be a real assassin,"

I winced on Altair's behalf, while the assassin grinded his teeth. I wondered if there was some reason why being called a "novice" got to him so much. Perhaps something happened in his past. I made a mental note to ask him about it later, if it wasn't likely to result in a chest full of iron...

I nudged Altair and nodded, hoping he would understand what I was trying to say using only ambiguous gestures.

"Well at least I'm not as bad as the girl. She walked into a guard at the gate, and caused the whole group to attack. We barely made it out of there alive,"

Malik stared at me with disbelief, "Is she really that bad?"

"I had to cut down at least four guards for her to run away, but then she didn't even flee to safety,"

"What? Did she just stand there gawking like an idiot?" Malik asked amusedly,

"No, actually, she tried to help,"

"...help?"

"Well, she kicked one of the guards in the shins, which distracted him long enough for me to finish him off," Altair explained, "But I suppose you could call that help, in some interpretations of the word,"

I was actually flattered he was bothering to mention my tiny contribution. I mean, obviously Altair wouldn't have even raised the guards' suspicions on his own, so he'd probably be better off without me. But it was nice to know he didn't think I was completely useless.

"Hmm, interesting," replied Malik, who had at least some real facial hair to stroke thoughtfully.

I began to fiddle with my necklace again. What did he mean by 'interesting'? Was he actually trying to say something? Or was he just getting back at me for my random hair-cut comment? If so, he and Altair have a very similar sense of humour. Perhaps that's how they became friends in the first place. I wonder if I could somehow use this information to help them patch up their rocky friendship.

It was then I realised that the room had been completely silent for a good few minutes. Altair and Malik were both staring at me.

"What?" I asked self-consciously.

"Why are you chewing in your necklace?" Altair asked finally.

"...no reason," I said quickly, spitting the golden chain and charms back out. Shit, I forgot about that.

Malik continued to study me critically.

"...I like chewing on things, ok? Leave me alone," I deflected, embarrassed. I'm so not used to having people around all the time like this. I should probably learn to pay more attention to my subconscious habits.

"And about the guards," I tried to change the subject, "It's not my fault no-one's taught me how to fight or anything. What do you people expect? Usually I just mash buttons,"

"...mash buttons?" Malik seemed confused.  
"Yeah, when I'm playing the game," I replied.

Malik seemed even more confused. "...what game?"

Altair suddenly coughed violently. "Malik, could I please have some water?" he croakily pleaded.

Malik shot us a suspicious look, but left the desk and went into the other room, presumably to get water.

"Don't mention the game around him," Altair whispered furiously.  
"Why not?" I asked.

"Because he doesn't _know_ it's a game. I told you before; I'm the only one who knows this place isn't real," He explained, "I don't know how he'll take it if he's told the truth, if he even believes it. Just don't mention it again, ok?"

I smacked my forehead. Of course! I remember him telling me this back when I first got here. How could I be so careless?

"I'm sorry Altair, I'll remember not to make that mistake again," I assured him. I hate to think how it might mess with Malik's head to realise he's not real. Hell, _I_ was having a hard enough time believing it. They all just seem so...well, real.

Malik returned from the other room with a brown earthen cup of water. He gruffly held it out to Altair, who accepted it graciously, nodding his thanks. Altair drained the cup quickly, water overspilling and running down his cheeks. Why is it that _he_ can make it look sexy, while I just look like I graduated from a sippy-cup too early?

Stupid sexy Altair.

I managed to eventually blink and clear my throat. "Don't we have an important mission to get back to?" I reminded them.

"Of course. We have important reconnaissance to do before I can go after Robert," Altair agreed, handing the empty cup back to Malik, "after all; a good assassin does his research,"

Malik seemed unsure how to respond, but opted with, "I'll be here when you get back, to see if you truly know when you're ready,"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Altair replied, before swaggering out the door.

I exchanged looks with Malik and shrugged, before rushing after him.

"What the hell was all that?" I asked as Altair scaled the bureau wall and swung himself onto the roof.

"If Malik thinks I'm still just a stupid arrogant novice, I'll give him one," he replied, holding out his hand to help me up.

"Wouldn't it be smarter to work harder to show him you've changed, rather than play into his expectations?" I asked, pulling myself up the rest of the way.

"...maybe. But this is more fun,"

I raised an eyebrow. "Maybe Malik is right. You're still as stubborn as a donkey...or a mule...or a really determined horse,"

* * *

Strangely enough, it felt good to be wandering the bustling streets of Jerusalem again. As convenient as it was to run along the roof-tops, there was nothing quite like snaking through a crowd, invisible, stalking to your destination. The blend ability was amazing. I felt like a secret spy....or an assassin, I guess, which makes sense...

Altair tugged my sleeve and led us to an alcove at the edge of a courtyard. He nodded to two men who were talking quietly across the street. I watched curiously as his eyes seemed to glaze over and his pupils dilate. So this is what it looks like when he does the whole "Eagle Vision" thing. Interesting.

I stood and watched the men talk, although without Altair's ability to also hear them from this distance, it just looked like heads bobbing up and down with serious expressions. Maybe I should learn to read lips. Finally, one of the men looked suspiciously both ways before reaching into his robes and pulling out a scroll. He gave it to the other man and walked away. Moments later, the man with a scroll also departed, turning a corner and walking down the street.

Without a word, Altair trailed after him. With little other option, I followed, trying to keep a distance that would allow me to see what was happening, but not bring unwanted attention to the assassin. I watched as he crept up on the man several times, but each time he got within reaching distance, a guard would walk past, or a leper would shove him out the way. On his fifth attempt, the man suddenly turned and shouted "What do you want? I'm no merchant. Leave me alone!"

I caught up to Altair. "Hmm, this guy seems harder to get to than normal," I remarked.

"Yes, I don't know what it is, but I just can't get close enough to pickpocket," He agreed.

"Maybe it's because you're on your own, this time," I suggested.

Altair turned to glare at me.

"Well, what else has changed?" I shrugged smugly.

He turned back to the disappearing target, "There has to be a way,"

"I think I have an idea," I said suddenly.

"You? An idea? I dunno, what can _you_ do?" he asked sceptically.

"What I do best. Just watch and learn," I replied, disappearing into the crowd.

I located the man with the scroll, heading around a corner. I weaved through the edge of the crowd to get ahead of him, and then threw down my hood and ruffled my hair. I waited by the wall as the man progressed slowly. Suddenly, just as he was about to walk past, I jumped out in front of him.

"Please sir, you have to help me!" I cried desperately, clinging to the front of his robes.

"Go away woman, I have no coin," he tried to shake me off.

"No, my son, he's missing. Have you seen my son?" I sobbed.

"...no, I haven't seen – "  
"He's about this high and has dark brown hair. We were out shopping in the markets when he vanished. Please, you have to help me find my son!" I cried, tears streaming down my face.

"Look, I don't know how – " the man tried to shake me off apologetically, but I wasn't loosening my grip. I glanced behind him and saw that Altair had caught on to the plan. His white hood bobbed in and out between the people of the crowd. I saw him nod.

"Please, he's all I have left. You must know where he is!" I continued my wailing, "He's only a child, little more than a babe. Anything could've happened!"

My victim seemed desperate to get away. I could see him skimming the crowd behind me for assistance. But Altair was so close; just a few moments more.

"I – I don't know what I'll do without him. Please sir, there must be something you can do!" I shook his robes to keep his attention on me, as Altair snuck up behind him.

"Look here, I'm sorry about your son, but I can't help you. Please let go of me now, or I shall call the guard!" the man threatened. I glanced up and saw Altair walking away, blending back into the crowd. The job was done.

With a final cry of anguish, I let the man go. "Fine, go, leave. Leave a poor woman to her misery!" I declared dramatically, stumbling away and back around the corner. I looked back to see the man had run off, not even realising he had been pick-pocketed.

I grinned. My plan had worked. A plan that I had actually thought up had been proven successful. And that was without me fully explaining it to Altair as well. How awesome am I?

Speaking of Altair, where was he? I scanned the crowed and saw no signs of a white hood. I backtracked down the street, and he wasn't there either. With little other choice, I found an alley and climbed the ladder to the roof for a better view.

But once more, not a trace of white in the milling heads of the people. Great, I've lost him.

"Nice work," Altair commented.

I jumped in shock, nearly losing my balance and falling off the roof. "God-damn it, what did I tell you about sneaking up on me?!" I demanded.

"That was an impressive performance. Very convincing," He continued, ignoring my near-death experience, "Very convincing indeed,"

"...I guess it was. What are you trying to say?" I asked.

"...It would almost seem as if you spoke from experience," he remarked, "You don't happen to actually have a son in real life, do you?"

I laughed. "Hell no, of course not. I know girls here often have families young, but not where I'm from. I don't have a kid; I don't even have a boyfriend. Although I realise the two are mutually exclusive,"

I could've been my imagination, but Altair seemed just a tiny bit relieved. "Oh, then you must just be a good actress,"

"Only when people aren't looking...or if I'm desperate," I shrugged, "So what about this note? What did the men in the street say about it?"

"Only that the man who found it did so in a birds' nest, in the rafters of the church," Altair explained,

"Birds' nest? So maybe it came from a carrier pigeon?" I suggested,

"That's what they thought too," he replied, "Apparently they couldn't make sense of the message, so the plan was to deliver it to Robert, or his guard to be passed on to him, in case he was the intended recipient,"

"And what's it say?"

"I haven't gotten to that part yet. I was too busy sneaking up on you," He admitted.  
I rolled my eyes, "Well since that's over with, shall we read the note?"

"Of course," Altair retrieved the note from one of his many pockets and unfurled the scroll, "hmm, this is odd,"

"Why? What's it say?"

"'Flour, eggs, milk, hint salt,'" he read.

Well, that's certainly not what I expected. Flour, eggs, milk and a hint of salt? What does it mean? I mulled it over for a moment, until it hit me.  
"Aren't they the basic ingredients in pancakes?"

"Pancakes? I suppose they are," Altair agreed, "But why would someone write a list of pancake ingredients?"

"Maybe it's a shopping list?" I suggested.

"And who sends a shopping list via carrier pigeon?"

"...someone who can afford to?"

"No, it doesn't make sense," Altair sighed, "This whole endeavour was pointless,"

"Let me have a look," I took the scroll from the assassin and examined it myself. That's interesting. "I think there's something more to this note,"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one, flour here is spelled 'Flowar', with a 'w' and an 'a', and they've given milk two 'i's. So it's spelled 'Miilk'," I pointed out.  
"So? What does spelling have to do with anything?"

"Yes, I'll admit that illiteracy is probably common here, but I don't think it's a mistake. I mean, these aren't the natural spelling errors for these words. People trying to write flour will usually end up writing "flower", as in the plants. And who actually thinks that milk has two 'i's? I think these mistakes were done on purpose," I concluded.

"And to what end?"

"Maybe it's a code," I shrugged.  
"A coded message? Hmm, it's possible. Do you think you can decode it?"

I studied the note more carefully, "If you look closely, you can see that some letters here have a strange little kink on the end. That could've been done on purpose too,"

"But can you decipher the code?" he pressed on.

"Maybe if I had a pen and a paper," I replied, "it would be easier than trying to play with the words in my head,"

Without a word, Altair reached into his robes and pulled out a scroll of blank parchment and a quill with a small ink pot.

I looked at them questioningly. "Are _those_ standard issue too?"

Altair shrugged, "No, but my mother used to tell me it's always useful to have something to write with on you,"

"She's a wise woman," I remarking, taking the writing implements and trying to lay the parchment out flat on the roof-top.

"She was,"

Although the nurturing side of me wanted to ask more about his mother and see if there was anything I could do to help, I had an important task at hand.

It's not like I really had much experience breaking codes, but I used to play a lot of those word games when I was younger, and I read books where the protagonists would cleverly decipher codes and word puzzles; maybe I could apply that basic knowledge here.

I wrote out all the letters with the kinks. L O W A R S A L T H I N M I I L K. I stared at them for a while. Perhaps it was some sort of anagram.

Then, a word jumped out at me among the letters. _Altair_. I wrote it down below the jumble. What a strange coincidence that part of the message can spell out the assassin's name. Or perhaps it's not such a coincidence.

I tried to re-arrange the remaining letters. More possible words jumped out. Him. Thin. War. Mars. Hit. Hot. Low. Mist. Hall. Sit. And then one word caught my eye; _Kill_.

Altair and Kill. Altair Kill. Kill Altair. Of all the possible words so far, these seemed the most likely to be intentional. But what was the intention? I tried to arrange the remaining letters. I ended up with Knows and Him.

I arranged the words into the most logical progression;

_Altair knows, kill him_.

...it raised more questions than is answered.

"Are you done? What's it say?" Altair asked impatiently, looking over my shoulder, "...what the - ?"

"It would appear that this note is meant to be your death warrant," I remarked solemnly.

"Well, if it's communication between the Templars, that's hardly surprising," Altair shrugged.

"I guess, but they use your name specifically, not just 'assassin'. Do they even _know_ your name?" I pointed out, "Plus, why bother coding it at all if it's just meant to be among them?"

"Maybe they didn't want anyone to be able to read it if it fell into the wrong hands. That's not unusual," he reasoned.

"Yes, but _we're_ the wrong hands. And it wasn't exactly hard to figure out. Were the other notes you pick-pocketed coded as well?"

"...now you mention it, I don't remember any of the others being coded. But maybe they're doing it now because they know someone has been intercepting their messages,"

"I agree, but I think they know it's you," I replied, "Like, specifically, you. I think maybe someone coded this message just for you. Something suspicious is going on, Altair,"

Altair looked on, disbelievingly, "I think you're just overreacting,"

"But look at what it says; "Altair knows,". What's that supposed to mean? What do you know? Or what do they think you know?"

"I don't know anything,"

"That can't be true. Maybe they think you suspect something. Something about the Templars. Something they don't want you to know. Maybe something about Al Mualim. He uses carrier pigeons. Maybe _he_ sent this, to make sure someone takes you out before you can interfere in whatever plan he and Robert have cooked up," I said quickly, my mind running a mile a minute with all the new possibilities.

"Ok, so now you're suggesting that Al Mualim is working with the Templars?" Altair asked.

"You've said it all along that you don't trust him,"

"Yes, but I don't think he's gone that far."

"Why not? We don't know his motives," I argued.

"But he's got their treasure. If Al Mualim were working with the Templars, he would have given them back the Piece of Eden by now."

"How do you know he hasn't already?"

"And what about me? He's the one who assigned me on this assassination spree. I've killed nine Templar leaders on his orders," Altair reminded me, "Why would he do that if he's working with them?"

I struggled to think of a rebuttal, "Maybe they weren't doing their jobs properly. Or maybe he's _not_ working with the Templars,"  
"Finally, you see sense," Altair sighed.

"Maybe he wants them out of his way, so he can take over," I suggested.

"...ok, now you just sound paranoid," Altair replied, "That's nonsense. There is nothing more to this note than the Templars trying to get rid of me."

I sighed, "Fine, believe what you will. Just be careful. I think there may be more going on here than we think,"

* * *

_Wow, such a long chapter, and less than a week since the last one? Am I spoiling you or what? :D_

_You have no idea how long I spent trying to create that coded message. I started off with only the knowledge that somehow, I wanted the initial message to be a list of ingredients for pancakes...and I know that seems odd, but it has some significance. I mean, back in the day, Christians made pancakes to use up all the dairy products and such right before lent. A practice I'm sure would've happened somewhere in Altair's time. (lol, you can really see my religious education becoming quite useful with this fic XD Maybe next I throw Jesus into the story and see how he reacts to the world of Assassins Vs Templars...that's actually not a completely stupid idea. Someone go write that and credit me. *now*) XD_

_And I cannot take credit for the line "Stupid sexy Altair", as I adapted it from a certain piece of Left For Dead 2 fanart I saw. But I'm sure the phrase "Stupid Sexy (insert name here)" has older origins. It's the most effective if the third word also starts with an S. _

_For those non-Australian's among you (which I'm guessing is pretty much all of you), last Tuesday (the 26__th__ of January) was Australia Day. Although if you've played Bioshock, you should already know that (lol, best door code ever!). I hadn't really planned on doing anything for the occasion, but ended up spending a heap of time with my family while at Grandma's, and then "supervising" my brother's secret drunken mini-party. Which I ended up getting involved with. And all this the day before my parents are set to come home from their week away at the beach house... lol, they never suspected a thing. _

_What does this have to do with this chapter, you ask? Well, it's my long winded way of explaining why I wrote some of this hung-over. I'm sure it's all coherent, but if I go off on random tangents or something doesn't quite make 100% sense, you'll know why._

_And feel free to point it out. I'm so bad at critically going over my own work, so I can't tell if I've made a wrong decision and written something irrelevant. I just write and hope you guys like it._

_The next chapter up at some point probably before this time next week maybe. And that maybe will become more certain with the more inspirational and encouraging reviews I get..._

_So yeah, if you liked this chapter, review. I'm hoping I managed to be consistent with Malik, but it's so hard when there are like 4 chapters between each of his appearances. And I'm getting worried that I'm going to end up forgetting things I mentioned earlier, and leaving loose threads in the end. Someone please tell me if you find something that contradicts something which was said earlier. *sigh* This gets harder to write the longer it gets. How can I possibly keep up to the quality of your expectations? I've probably failed already..._

_And on that happy note, see you all next time ;D_


	16. Chapter 16

_A/n: __Thanks again to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I don't know how to keep this message fresh after repeating myself each time, but I can't stress enough how helpful and encouraging you guys are. I know it sounds pathetic, but it's nice to receive validation for my work, now that I don't get it anywhere else since I've finished high school. I don't get many opportunities to write in a science degree...although I *did* kick ass in that scientific essay last semester...but it's not the same. XD_

_I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'll keep continuing to try and bring you frequent updates. I'm aiming for a new chapter every 4 days. So far, it's a workable schedule, but my holidays are quickly running out. We'll see how going back to Uni at the end of the month affects my writing time..._

* * *

Part 16

Altair had put the coded note away. Perhaps he was right. Maybe I was just looking too much into this. Maybe I hadn't even decoded it properly. Maybe it wasn't even coded at all.

I sighed and reached into my robes to search for the Mini Map. I was getting better and better at finding it. But strangely enough, it was never in the same pocket where I put it last. Maybe these pockets are really mini portals to some sort of magical infinite object universe, like Mary Poppins' bag. Or maybe I just had a bad memory for these things.

Altair waited patiently as I studied the map. About six flashing mission icons remained, along with one bureau icon, and another smaller icon. I zoomed in the map to get a closer look. Was that a 'Save Citizen'?

No sooner had I identified it than we heard the desperate cries of a woman in need, "Please let go of me, I've done nothing wrong!"

Altair and I exchanged glances.

"That way," I pointed north, as the mini map directed. We jumped over to the next roof and followed the screams.

It wasn't long before we reached our destination. Altair sat perched on the roof-top as we gazed down at the scene in the courtyard. A woman was being pushed and prodded by two guards, while three others, including one of those tough knight people with the fancy hats, stood guard, crossing their arms and glaring out challengingly at any would-be passersby who dared to linger longer than necessary. I crouched down next to the assassin.

"So, what do we do?" I asked.

"We save her, obviously," Altair replied.

"Ok, I get that, but how? There's like five of them. And they look pretty well armed," I pointed out.

Altair looked at me in disbelief, "Seriously? Have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

I rolled my eyes, "Well sorry. I forgot you were the guy who died three times when trying to chase after Talal,"

"That was your fault. And I suppose the eight guards at the gate all walked into their blades," he replied sarcastically,

"Well, they could've. I didn't really see..."

Altair turned and glared at me.

"Hey, I'm just concerned for your safety," I shrugged, "I know how much you hate respawning from the save-points. You shouldn't go leaping into any unnecessary dangers,"

"I would be more worried about my own safety if I were you," He replied, before dropping down to the veranda.

From there, he performed one of my favourite moves, something I had dubbed "Death From Above". Basically he leaped off the veranda and landed, hidden blade-first, on top of one of the knights, killing him instantly. Despite the blood splatter, this one still looked pretty damn cool up close.

Moving quickly, Altair drew his sword and ran it through the stumbling guard to his right, before blocking an attack by the other guard using his hidden blade. The two guards harassing the woman stopped and went over to help their friends.

I dropped down to the veranda and jumped to the ground. The guards seemed a little more alert and smarter than ones we usually run into. Altair seemed to struggle, fighting all four at once. Just as he managed to dodge two attacks and block the third, a fourth attack would hit. He began to bleed from a large cut on his arm. This wasn't good. I had to help him somehow, but what could I do?

Desperately, I searched my robe pockets for something, anything that I could use to help. Finally, my hands grasped something useful. I pulled out some throwing knives.

Instinctively, I threw one at struggle. By pure luck, it struck one of the attacking guards in the arm. The guard looked up and saw me. He began to approach menacingly. I threw three more knives at him, only one of them managing to bury itself into his leg, the other two ricocheting off the ground and wall respectively. I was surprised how easy it was to attack this way (morally speaking). But despite the obvious pain it caused him, the guard continued to limp in my direction. He brought up his sword to strike. Thinking quickly, I kicked him in the groin and drew my sword. The man went down, groaning in agony, and I brought the hilt of my sword down on the back of his neck. He collapsed on the stony ground, unconscious...or dead. I couldn't really tell.

I rushed over to Altair in time to hit the remaining guard in the back with the hilt of my sword, which was quickly becoming my favourite end. Altair finished him off with a final blow to the jugular, blood spraying all over his robes again.

The woman, who had been standing just metres away the entire time, bowed down. "Thank you. Another minute and they would've made off with me," She said, strangely enough in the exact same tone and voice as every other woman we've saved like this, "I'll make sure the whole city knows of your kindness,"

"Maybe you should keep it to yourself. You know, since we're supposed to be undercover," I muttered as she dashed away.

"Took your time," Altair remarked, wiping off his sword and re-sheathing it.  
"I thought you wanted me to stay out of danger," I replied, not needing to clean my sword since my method of attack was much less messy,

"Yeah, but I didn't think you would actually listen to me."

"But I didn't. I took out a guard all on my own," I announced proudly, pointing to the motionless body of the guard behind me.

"_You_ killed a guard? Really?"

"...well, I don't know if he's quite dead...unconscious maybe...but it still counts,"

Altair rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I know _you're_ cool with the whole killing thing, but I'm not so sure I like the idea of stabbing someone to death. It's just too...I don't know, unthinkable."

"I don't _like_ killing people, it's just a job. I much prefer the part where I save people," Altair replied, "But usually, in order to save people, someone has to die. And it's not that hard when you've got half an army of them braying for your blood,"

"I guess. But I still don't know if I could do it," I sighed, "Isn't it just good enough to knock them out? I mean, that guy certainly isn't going to be attacking us any time soon...or having any kids,"

"No. If you let them live, it gives them the chance to come back later and finish you off," Altair explained, "Look, if the time comes when you're ever cornered on your own, with no hope and no chance of survival, you'll know then if you have the ability to take a life. And if you don't, then you'll be the one whose life is taken. It's as simple as that."

I prayed to God, Allah, Zeus or whatever deity is up there that I would never end up in that situation. I already knew what the answer was, and it scared me.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," I replied solemnly.

"I don't think you'll have such luck here...but there's no point worrying about what hasn't happened yet. What's next on the mini map?" Altair asked, moving us along.

"What happened here?" A demanding voice interrupted.

"Oops, no time for that now. Let's go," Altair grabbed my arm and dragged me to the ladder leading back to the rooftops.

"Quickly, climb up before more guards arrive and see us," he instructed, before proceeding to scale the wall using the windows and ledges beside me.

I reached the roof just in time. One of the authoritative guards and a group of his lackeys arrived at the gruesome scene. He looked around accusingly, and I ducked behind a chimney.

I leaned back and sighed, waiting to hear for the tell-tale signs of the guards giving up and leaving. Looking up at the sky, I noticed the giant window showing into my living room. I saw my dog sniffing around at the empty cans of red bull and UDL which were scattered on my coffee table. I wondered if she missed me.

"What are you looking at?" Altair asked, appearing next to me.

"Look, it's my dog!" I pointed to the screen. The black spoodle continued to scavenge for food amongst the rubbish. Too bad for her I had already put away my food dishes.

"Oh, so it is,"

"I guess Gypsy is hungry," I remarked, "Or she's just looking for more food. She's such a food whore,"

"You've been in here for a while now," Altair reminded me, "Do you know how much time has passed in your world? Maybe she wants breakfast,"

"Maybe you're right. From the weak light shining in through the front windows, I'd say it's just after sunrise. But she and the cat had a late dinner. They shouldn't need to be fed just yet. Not like I can do anything about it from here, anyway," I remarked.

"Isn't there someone out there who can feed your animals?"

"No. My parents are away on some round-the-world trip and won't be back for a few months, and my brother's staying at a friend's house, at least for the next few days. There's no one at home anymore," I explained.

"Well, that's lucky. At least people won't notice you're gone. It might be hard to explain how you travelled into a video game," Altair replied optimistically.

"Yes, lucky. Lucky for you. Did you even think about all that before you pulled me into this mess?"

"...not really. It was more of an impulse decision," he admitted.

"Oh, you're good at making those, aren't you?"

Altair winced. Well, at least he admits it.

"Come on, I think it's safe to move on," Altair said, checking for guards. I looked back at the courtyard. It was empty aside from the bodies. Time to go.

"Where to next?" the assassin asked.

I sighed. My animals would have to fend for themselves for a little while longer. We were almost finished here, right?

I pulled out the mini map (which I had decided to permanently keep in the pocket in my sleeve, for easy access) and studied the closest icons.

"There's an eavesdropping mission a few blocks away, and an interrogation not to far west," I replied

"Why don't we split up? You can eavesdrop while I do the interrogation. We'll get things done quicker that way," He suggested, "Unless _you_ want to beat the crap out of some preaching fool?"

"No, I think I'll leave all the innocent beatings and stabbings to the experts," I replied smartly, "But how am I supposed to eavesdrop? I don't have eagle vision,"

"You don't need eagle vision to eavesdrop. Just find a way to get close enough to listen. You're a girl, so you should look less suspicious,"

"Fine, but how will I know who to listen to?"

"It's easy. They will be the only two people actually talking to each other," Altair pointed out, "If you haven't noticed, most people just keep to themselves around here,"

Now he mentioned it, I _did_ notice that.

"Sounds like a good plan. But just a few things. Firstly, where will we meet up? How am I going to find you again?"

"We'll meet back here once we're done. It shouldn't take long,"

"Ok then, but what about that?" I asked, pointing to the dark red stain on his arm.

"...what about it? It's just a cut," he shrugged.  
"It's bleeding quite a lot," I insisted,

"It's nothing,"

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"Well, I guess. But it doesn't matter," he dismissed.

"Don't you think it would be wise not to go off weakened as you are? How are you supposed to punch that guy in the face if your arm is holding you back?" I asked,

"I'll deal. Let's just go," he said impatiently.

"No, not until I bandage it up," I insisted. Yep, here's my maternal side coming through again.

"What?"

"I swear I found some bandages here before...," I searched through the nexus of pocket-portals,

"Don't worry about it. It's ok. Let's just get to work,"

"Found them!" I pulled the roll of bandages out triumphantly.

Altair tried to shrink away, "Aren't you listening to me?"

"Nope, now roll up your sleeve," I demanded.

"I can't. Gauntlet," He pointed to the hidden blade.

"Can't you take it off?"  
He shook his head, "It's not that easy. It takes ten minutes to put back on. That's why I usually sleep with it,"

"...that'd kind of dangerous," I remarked,

"It has a safety switch. Look, let's just go,"

"Take off your shirt," I insisted.

He tried to back away again, "What?!"

"Just so we can expose the wound on your bloody bicep. Come on. Otherwise the blood will dry and you'll have to soak the robes to get them off," I reasoned, "Besides, it could get infected."

"I'm a video game character; I don't get infected," He reminded me though gritted teeth.

Ah, but I'm just as stubborn as he is. "You don't usually get wounded like this either. Video game character or not, to seem pretty realistic to me. Take your shirt off now, or I'll throw away the mini map," I threatened.

"...you wouldn't," He tried to call my bluff,

But I wasn't bluffing. "You think I really care about doing these missions and assassinating Robert? This isn't my world. I'm not the one who'll get in trouble if you fail,"

Altair glared at me for what seemed like forever, before sighing defeatedly, "Fine. Bandage my arm. But be quick; there's still plenty we need to do."

"Thank you. And it'll be easier for you to do without the blood-loss to slow you down," I replied smugly. I love winning an argument.

Altair shrugged off his assassin's robe and pulled the tunic underneath down to his elbow, exposing the large slash across his bicep. I tried not to stare at his uncovered chest, but I had been right before in guessing he had amazing muscles.

The cut ran almost right from his shoulder down to his elbow. It was still bleeding, slowly but steadily. Maybe the sword had nicked an artery. It had to be fixed.

Accustomed to blood by now, I covered the long gash with some gauze pads (which I hadn't expected to find in this time, but then again, maybe the pocket portals were exempt to historical accuracy) and proceeded to firmly wrap the bandage roll around his arm.

"What's a stupid bandage going to do anyway?" He asked irritably.

"Heal you, hopefully. That's how game logic works; you put on a bandage and it magically heals everything. Don't question the game logic; it runs your world," I replied, securing the bandage on with the metal clip which was conveniently at the end of the roll.

"Can you move it ok?" I asked my patient.

Altair flexed his arm. "Should be fine," he grunted.  
"Good," I replied smugly.

"Can I go now?" he asked impatiently, reminiscent of a naughty child who had just been caught stealing cookies before dinner,

"Yes, we can go," I nodded, "Remember, your target should be preaching from the platform over there," I pointed in the direction according to the map.

"And we'll meet back here when we're done," He confirmed,  
"Great. And please try not to hurt or kill him unnecessarily. He's probably just a bystander in all this," I replied, bringing back up my previous protest at killing off the interrogation victims,

Altair rolled his eyes, "I'll see what I can do," he replied, before jumping over the peak of the roof and towards his mission.

"Liar," I muttered after him.

And then it hit me. I was going on a mission _solo_.

...shit. What the hell have I just gotten myself into?

* * *

_And that concludes another chapter. I've been watching a lot of South Park lately. It's one of my favourite shows (although I do have many favourites). I love the humour, and how intelligent it can be. Plus, the characters are very endearing. But the online fandom is often a far cry from the canon. I mean, all the insane pairings that people take so seriously...it's kinda crazy. I support StanXWendy, the only real canon pairing (because I usually side with the canon...it's usually the most developed and logical one anyway), but I have a soft spot for TweekXCraig. Lol. Tweek is so adorable, being all paranoid and twitchy. I just want to give him a hug XDDD (Also, he shares my love of coffee :D). _

_I often like the damaged characters like that. I guess I'm just the nurturing sort (although I maintain I'd probably be a terrible mother. I'm impatient and can be selfish, and have little time for crying babies...I wish they had a bloody mute button). Which is why it's better to redirect this onto adorable damaged men, who I want to help. Like Malik. He's so god-damned adorable. Who says being a cripple can't be a turn on? LOL. _

_Anyway, I'm going to get back to whatever it was that I was doing...so please review :D_

_Tell me whether you think girl/player/me will succeed in the eavesdropping mission, of if I'll fail miserably..._


	17. Chapter 17

_A/n: Sorry this chapter is so late. I know I said 4 days, but would you believe that it took me this long to realise that all the important information given at each investigation mission can be read under the memory blocks? (talking about the game here) Well it did. And once I worked it out, I went in and finally got what I needed to give the next several chapters some direction, other than just witty banter and innuendo (...although there will still be plenty of that in there XD) And then I got caught up hunting for flags in Jerusalem. I still don't think I'll find the last 30, but oh well, I guess I'll live. _

_And now without further adieu, chapter 17!_

_PS, Hilarity is increased by 30% if the chapter is read aloud in a posh British accent...at least, that's how I write it... :D_

* * *

Part 17

I felt incredibly alone, despite the crowd of people milling around me. With Altair gone, I knew no one. It was worse than being at a party with complete strangers. At least at a party, there's always alcohol to take the edge off. Here, amongst the yelling merchants and armed guards, I just wanted to disappear.

I glanced once more at the mini map for reassurance. I was apparently headed in the right direction. Altair's target icon was approaching the edge of the map. I zoomed out, so it wouldn't disappear and leave me completely stranded. I know it's just an icon on a map, but knowing where Altair was helped give me confidence, despite the fact it did me absolutely no good, and it's not like I could run over there and find him if a bunch of guards discovered me. If that happened, he'd probably be long-gone from that part of the map anyway. I was on my own, at least for the next ten minutes or so.

I turned into the stone courtyard (one of many, in Jerusalem) and scanned the people for my targets. I spotted them; two suspicious-looking men chatting quietly behind the fountain. Time to eavesdrop.

I edged my way around the courtyard, sticking to the walls. An armed guard eyed me warily. I simply smiled innocently and moved on. As I came closer, I began to hear mummers of their conversation, but I was still too far away to properly eavesdrop. I continued to make my way around the edge of the courtyard, hugging the wall, but not taking my eyes off my targets for even a second. It was because of this that I then walked into a bench. I winced and silently swore. Who leaves a bench right along a wall where people who aren't looking where they're going could easily trip on it? The man sitting on the end glared at me briefly.

I sat down and tried to focus on the talking men...but nothing. I couldn't hear a goddamned thing, and my lip-reading skills hadn't gotten any better since last time either. Stupid Altair. "Oh, don't worry; you won't need eagle vision to eavesdrop," I muttered, mocking Altair's stupid voice. So much for that. I would have to get closer. But how? It would be too suspicious to simply walk up to the fountain. I need a prop...

I dug my hands into the robe pockets and prayed to the Pocket Gods that I would find something useful. Yes, the Pocket Gods, who I decided must exist, and who rule over the pockets and their items, saviours of loose string, lords of spare buttons. And the Pocket God said to the Hip Pocket, "and thou shall keepsafe all items and trinkets, and nary loose them, else they will fall into the hands of the cursèd dust mites and be lost into the Great Beyond". And then the Pocket Gods decreed me their saviour, for having completed the test of the Infinite Assassin Robe Pockets, and chosen me to rule over the Pocket People for 1000 years, as is foretold by the great Pocket Prophet Noholes.

"He he, Pocket Gods," I chuckled.

The man sitting next to me shot me a dirty look.

"Have you accepted the Pocket Gods as your lord and saviour yet?" I asked him.

The man got up suddenly and quickly walked away, fleeing the courtyard. I resisted the urge to laugh. Scaring random strangers was always amusing.

There was laughter, not my own, and my attention was caught by my targets; the talking men. Right, I was supposed to be listening to their conversation. I resumed my search for props, determined not to let myself get distracted again, but found nothing more than rubber bands and marbles (and the handcuffs, again, but now was hardly the appropriate time and place to use them...not that I was ever likely to find the appropriate time and place to use them anyway, but nonetheless). In all my movement, one of the studs on my arm-guard gauntlet thing got caught on my necklace chain, and I ended up inadvertently pulling it from my neck. I swore and fumbled for the luckily still-intact clasp. Stupid necklace; always falling off. And then I suddenly had an idea.

I composed myself and casually walked over to the fountain, keeping an unsuspicious distance between myself and the talking men. In one smooth movement, which I disguised as flipping back my hair, I swept my unfastened necklace from my neck and into the fountain, where it landed with a small splash, just metres away from my targets. Apologetically, I waltzed over, glancing at the men who seemed to ignore me, and tried to roll up my sleeves (before realising they were all attached to the gauntlets and fingerless gloves and thusly gave up). I plunged my hands into the water and made motions of searching for my necklace. The water was pretty darn cold. I hoped the men would finish talking soon.

I listened in.

"And then I said, 'Siegfried, what are you doing? You can't eat that; it's Ramadan!' And he spat out the apple and threw it to the ground," one of the men said with amusement, "And then, moments later he replied 'Wait a minute, I'm Jewish! I don't celebrate Ramadan!'"

The two men broke out in laughter.

"Ah, Akmal, your brother-in-law is such an idiot," the other man remarked.

"I know! I really don't know what my sister sees in that man,"

"Yes, it's a shame. Such a waste for such a beautiful woman,"

"I suppose," Akmal agreed hesitantly,

"Have I ever told you how attractive your sister is?" his companion asked,

Akmal coughed, "Yes, many times. Anyway, Bashiel, I did not ask you to meet me here simply to tell you about my brother-in-law,"

"I should hope not. Why can't we do this at your house? Then your hot sister would serve us cold drinks,"

"Shut up about my sister! No, I brought you here because I have heard things,"

"What sort of things?" Bashiel asked in amusement. I recognised that look. He was considering whether to make a suggestive joke or not.

"Things that could get us killed if the guards found out we were discussing it," Akmal replied solemnly.

I glanced up. Sounds like what I'm here for.

"Oh dear, that sounds dangerous," Bashiel remarked.

"It is. Do you remember my friends in the Guard?"

"Yes, I remember them. One of them owes me money,"

"Anyway, this friend informed me recently of some interesting news about Robert de Sable,"

"Him? What about him?" Bashiel asked,

"Well, for starters, some say they've seen him sending a messenger pigeon out every day, communicating with some unknown correspondent,"

"He's writing letters? The bastard!" Bashiel remarked sarcastically, "Everyone uses messenger pigeons. That's hardly suspicious. He's probably just keeping in touch with his wife or something,"

"Does he even have a wife?" Akmal asked,

Bashiel shrugged, "Who knows? But if he does, she's probably pissed that he's spending all his time crusading around, rather than at home with her. And there's nothing scarier than a neglected housewife,"

"What would you know? You're not even married," Akmal countered.

"No, but I've seen your sister around Siegfried. She's hot when she's angry,"

"Dammit, I said stop taking about Catherine!"

"Face the facts, Akmal, she's quite attractive,"

"She's my _sister_. I don't want to talk about this! One more word and I'll – "

"Fine, fine, just calm down. I was only joking," Bashiel replied defensively,

"Anyway, that's not all I heard about Robert," Akmal continued,

"Oh, you mean there's more than the scandalous letter writing?"

"Shut up. And yes. Apparently he's tripled his personal guard. There's never been this many Templar knights in Jerusalem before,"  
"Have there ever been _any_ number of Templar knights in Jerusalem before?" Bashiel asked,

"I don't know. All I know is having all these templars around makes me jumpy,"

"What's so wrong with Templars?"

"It's just, it's hard to know where we stand with them. Are they our allies? Or plotting to kill us? I don't know, and that's what bothers me the most," Akmal admitted.

"Ah, relax. You worry too much. It doesn't matter what the templars are doing here. You're just a humble carpet maker. Sit back and the whole situation will sort itself out, as it always does," Bashiel dismissed.

"I just don't trust them. I don't know why Robert and his men are here, but whatever it is, is can't be good news for us," Akmal sighed, "I'm thinking of moving my family somewhere safer. Maybe Damascus."

"Damascus? That hole? Don't be stupid. There's nothing going on. The templars can't affect us," Bashiel replied, "Besides, you can't move your sister away from me. Whose bounteous bosom would I stare at then?"

Akmal looked enraged, "Ok, that's it. I've warned you before. Stay away from my sister," He punched his companion in the face, knocking him back into the fountain.

Bashiel reached up and pulled Akmal into the water with him, and the two men proceeded to fight. I jumped away, narrowly missing a stray foot as it kicked out wildly. Unfortunately, I jumped into the guard, who reached for his sword.

"All right you two, break it up," the guard called, attempting to step in. The guard pushed me out the way and approached the brawling men in the fountain. I took the opportunity to run, and quickly fled the courtyard.

I got half way across the district before I realised I had left my necklace in the fountain. I stopped suddenly. My necklace! Dare I go back for it? I looked around me for answers, but unsurprisingly found no help. It's too late to go back for it now; Altair is probably expecting me. I'll have to convince him to make a detour later. The men are probably still fighting.

Taking one last look back, I moved forward, jogging along the streets towards our meeting place.

Along the way, I passed a river, which I hadn't remembered seeing before in Jerusalem (but then again, it's not like I've really explored every inch of the city before). A large shiny golden statue stuck out in the middle of the urban river. Intrigued (and easily distracted by shiny things), I made my way along the bridge and stopped to look at it. It was a stunning statue of a rearing Hippocampus; a highly underrated mythological creature that was half horse, half fish. It was one of my favourites. I was surprised to see it here in Jerusalem. I had only previously seen idols of this creature in Venice. And I think the myth is Greek. It didn't make any sense at all.

Realising I had gotten hopelessly distracted again, I got out the mini map to see where I was in relation to the marker of the meeting place I had put on the map earlier. I was only a few buildings away. I could see the roof top with the large chimney from the bridge. There was no sign of Altair yet, but it was likely he wouldn't be long.

I was in the middle of deciding whether to go and wait at the meeting point now or stay by the pretty statue and leave when I saw him, when I was attacked...sort of.

There was a fluster of feathers and talons as a large eagle screeched and tried to land on my shoulder. It looked suspiciously like the one who had pushed me off the view point earlier.

Surprised, I tried to shoo it away, somewhat unsuccessfully. In all the flailing of limbs, the mini map slipped from my grasp. A sizable splash confirmed my worst fears; I had dropped the mini map into the river.

The large eagle (which had managed to settle on my shoulder) cawed loudly.

"This is all your fault," I accused.

The eagle cocked his head and took off, hitting me in the face with his wings before disappearing into the sky.

"Stupid bloody bird," I swore after him. How was I going to explain this to Altair?

With little other option, I sighed and headed towards the meeting point. Yep, he's going to be pissed.

* * *

After about twenty minutes of twiddling my thumbs and counting roof tiles, Altair arrived; his knuckles bloodied, but otherwise fine and with no explanation for being so late. "How did it go?" I asked.

"...it wasn't what I expected," Altair sighed, joining me in sitting on the roof.

"Well I can see you killed him," I commented,

"I had to. He was so damn annoying,"

"...aren't they all annoying?"

"Yes, but this guy really takes the cake,"

"There was cake?" I asked, suddenly hungry.

"No. But I wish there had been. Maybe then the mission wouldn't have been a _complete_ waste of time," he sighed again.

"Oh...so did he say anything about Robert?"

"Yes,"

What is this? 20 Questions? Out with it already! "...what did he say?" I asked impatiently.

"'_Robert's favourite colour is red_,'" Altair sighed once more.

"...his what now?"

"I know. The Animus was wrong," the assassin remarked angrily, "That guy didn't know anything. He was insane. A raging lunatic,"

"...and yet you still killed him," I pointed out.

"Of course. He was getting on my nerves. Wouldn't shut up about waffles,"

"...isn't the first tenant of the Creed to not harm the innocent?" I reminded him,

"I think the Creed would make an exception,"

"...so, Robert's favourite colour is red," I mused, "...can we use that somehow?"

"I doubt it," he replied.

"Maybe if we get an elephant, and paint it red, and then train the elephant to stomp on him, and then give it to him as a present – "

"Were would we even get an elephant?" Altair asked, stomping all over my dreams, much like the elephant would've.

"...Africa?" I shrugged,

Altair rolled his eyes.

"Well, I don't see _you_ coming up with any ideas," I replied, crossing my arms in annoyance. No one ever lets me get an elephant.

"How did _your_ mission go?" Altair changed the topic, "Did you actually manage to do anything on your own?"

"Yes, actually. It went fine," I replied sharply.

"Oh really?"

"I was successful. Although your advice was stupid; I couldn't hear a damn thing from the bench!"

"So what did you do?" he inquired,

"I improvised," I said simply, "I threw my necklace into the fountain next to them, and used it as a cover to get close enough to eavesdrop,"

"Clever. And did it work?"

"Yep, those stupid men didn't suspect a thing," I replied proudly.

"Great. That was good thinking. But I suppose they probably expect a woman to be so careless," Altair remarked,

"Really now?" I was not amused,

"That's actually a good thing in this case. Women attract less suspicion then men," he explained, "I don't understand why we don't have more female assassins,"

"I guess," I agreed hesitantly. Perhaps sexism isn't always bad.

"And what did you find out?" Altair continued.

I cleared my throat, "Well, I discovered that Robert is quite the letter-writer,"

"...I see," the assassin was visibly unimpressed.

"It is possible he is in some way related to that note we intercepted," I continued,

"Clearly. Because he's the only one writing letters in this city," Altair replied sarcastically,

"Well, he's at least one of the people who would want you dead, so it's something,"

Altair rolled his eyes, "I'm still not convinced. There's no proof that the note is involved with anything. And I am an assassin afterall; I'm sure there are many people who want me dead. I wouldn't be doing my job properly if there wasn't. And anyway, it could all just be a coincidence. There's probably some poor housewife sobbing in the dark whose lost her shopping list,"

"...since when do you care about housewives?" I asked,

"Since we stole their shopping list," he replied,

Seriously? "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard,"

"Unlikely," he scoffed, "Anyway, is that all you got from the mission?"

"No, I also discovered that Robert has a shit-load of guards,"

"...a 'shit-load'?"

"Many. Many many angry armed guards," I elaborated solemnly.

"Any specific numbers?"

"No. But the man said Robert's personal guard at least has been tripled,"

"You know, that's much more important information than the other thing. You could've mentioned that first," Altair remarked,

"Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

"...you're really not taking this assassin thing seriously, are you?"

"Hey, I lost my favourite necklace for this 'assassin thing'. I'd say I'm taking it pretty damn seriously," I shot back.

"Oh, so you left your necklace in the fountain?"

"Yes, a fight broke out over one of the men's sisters and I had to flee quickly," I sighed, "It wouldn't be the only thing I lost in water today,"

"Huh?"

"Nothing," I said quickly.

"...do you want me to get your necklace back?" Altair asked,

"That would be nice," I replied, surprised at such a kind gesture.

"Ok, if we're in the area again, I'll try and look for it," he promised.

Is he for real? "Thank you," I said cautiously.

"But you should stay away. The guards there probably know your face now. You could be recognised,"

"Ok then," I agreed, "I'll leave all the dangerous recovery work to you,"

"...I appreciate it," he said drily.

I smiled, "I know it's what you like best."

* * *

_The good news is, in all the time I spent not writing this chapter, I wrote a significant amount of the next chapter. So I can actually promise that it will be posted before the weekend. It's funny; my original plan only went up to 15 chapters, and now, I can see this stretching out to the mid 20s. I keep thinking of extra things to put in. xD Ah well. A number of you have expressed how you like long stories, so you should be happy. _

_I've started playing the PC version of Assassin's Creed. And I've got to say, all the opening cut scenes make much more sense the second time round...now that I know what's going on and am actually paying attention. XD But getting used to the new controls is weird. Ah well. _

_And I don't know if the names Akmal or Bashiel are historically accurate (they probably aren't. I thought of them on the spot), but Akmal was inspired from Akmal Saleh, an Australian stand-up comedian of middle-eastern heritage who is hilarious. And Bashiel I invented. I have no idea if it's a real name. But it sounds cool, doesn't it? :D (and Siegfried isn't accurate either, but does anyone really care? We'll never see these characters again anyway)_

_I usually try to be consistent with the game, especially in terms of historical accuracy, but sometimes the fun is in point-out the historical inaccuracies. Or inventing ones. Like the statue. And I'm fairly sure there's no river in Jerusalem (I spent about 5 hours flag hunting there yesterday and didn't find one), but that's of little importance. City's gotta get water somehow. We'll just pretend there is one. Just keep it a little secret between you and me...and all the other readers...it's a very exclusive club. _

_Anyway, thank you again to all my brilliant and wonderful reviewers. Your support and comments mean oh so much. And they often guilt me into working on this when I've forgotten about it in lieu of South Park or Dragon Age, or trying to clear out my inbox. So thank you. :D_

_And of course, review this chapter. What is your incentive? Do you really need one? How about, I promise to write someone shirtless at some point in the future...but I won't tell you who...*shifty eyes* yeah, it'll be a big surprise..._

_Good enough incentive for you? No? You want a cookie instead? Well, sure, have some virtual cookies. And cake. And butterscotch pudding. Because on the internet, you can have whatever you like._

_...ok, I'll shut up now. See you soon! (*coughreviewcough*)_


	18. Chapter 18

_A/n: I know this is later than I promised, but there's an explanation at the end. For now, consider this a Valentine's Day present for you all (even though over here it's Monday already...but I'm sure it's still V-day for at least some of you...hopefully...)_

* * *

Part 18

"So anyway, now that that's all sorted, where are we headed next?" Altair asked, disrupting the peaceful silence that had settled in the last five minutes.

Shit, he wants me to check the mini map...the mini map that is currently lying at the bottom of the river. I coughed. "Altair, we need to talk about your issues with intimacy," I said suddenly.

Altair turned a shade best resembling that of a tomato, and stumbled. "...wh-what the hell? I don't have issues with intimacy. What are you talking about? Where's this coming from? Have you been speaking with Malik? He doesn't know what he's talking about!"

I sighed knowingly, "See, _that's_ what I'm talking about. You have issues with talking about intimacy,"

"What does this have to do with anything? And what gives you the authority to bring it up?" he demanded,

"Well, I'm a girl. Apparently, having lady parts automatically makes me an expert on intimacy and stuff like that, despite my complete lack of experience and full understanding of the term," I rambled, "But that's how the world works, right? Like how being a man automatically makes you an expert on sport and carpentry,"

"...I've never built furniture in my life," he said slowly, "and if you don't know what you're talking about, why are you even bringing up such a subject?"

"For one, it's amusing to see you blush," I admitted, "But also, I'm bored...and I wanted to distract you,"

"...distract me from what?" he asked carefully,

"...the fact that I may have...lost...the mini map," I confessed.

"You what?!" He demanded,

"But it's ok. I know where it is...I think,"

"What happened? What did you do?"

"Well, I was just passing over a bridge, when a shiny statue caught my attention – "I began,

Altair face-palmed and sighed, "I think I know now why we don't have more female assassins,"

"And then one of those blasted eagles came of nowhere and flew into me, making me drop the mini map into the river," I continued, "Stupid bird. I think it was distracted by the statue too. It's a health hazard,"

"Don't blame this on the eagles. They are some of our finest allies," He defended,

"Yeah? Well your 'finest allies' don't know how to look where they're flying. Some allies. Might as well get guinea pigs; at least they don't walk into people," I muttered,

Altair rolled his eyes, "But basically, you dropped the mini map over a bridge,"

"Yep, into the river. I heard it splash and everything,"

"...wait, the river?"

"...yes, I just said that," I confirmed,

"As in, water?"

"Well, it certainly looks like water,"

"...Great," he sighed,

"What's your problem?"

"Are you at least going to go get it?"

"No way! I've seen you in there. It could be acid or something," I protested,

"It's just water,"

"Then why don't _you_ get it?"

"You know I die every time I go in the water. There's no way I'm risking it,'  
"Then why should I?"

"Because you dropped it in there," he replied, "Besides, if the Animus doesn't teleport you around, I doubt it will know to make you drown in the water. You _do_ know how to swim, right?"

"Naturally,"

"Then why not have a go?"

"....fine. I'll get it," I gave in, "But it probably doesn't even work anymore,"

"It better still work," he threatened,

"Or what?" I challenged,

"...I'll think of something,"

* * *

I glared vengefully at the beautiful golden statue which had started all this. It shone obliviously from the middle of the water. Altair and I stood at the side of the river.

"So, you dropped it here?" He asked,

"Yep," I replied, "Next to the golden hippocampus,"

"Hippocampus?"

"The siren of the river," I sighed mystically,

"...sure,"

"So, what do we do?" I asked,

"Well, _you_ are going to go dive in and find the mini map, while _I_ wait here on safe dry land," Altair explained.

"...some brave assassin you are," I remarked,

"Hey, I know my limits," he defended, "There's nothing to be ashamed of in knowing when to step back and let someone else do things for you,"

"So you're not ashamed that you're having a girl do your job?"

"...this falls out of my job description," he retaliated, "Enough chatter, hurry up and go get it,"

"I'm not just jumping in like this; I'll get wet!" I protested,

"Well, it _is_ water; that's generally what happens when you go into it,"

"I'm not going to walk around the city in wet clothes," I told him, unbuckling my gauntlets, "And how am I supposed to swim in these things?"

"What are you doing?" he asked uncertainly,

"Taking off my robes,"

"You can't go in there naked!"

"I'm not taking _everything_ off; just the outer robes and accessories," I corrected him, "Geeze Altair, get your mind out of the gutter,"

The assassin scowled, "You should be more specific in the future,"

I rolled my eyes, "Help me, would you? I don't know how to take off the belt,"

"...what?"

"Come on, do you want your precious mini map or not?"

Hesitantly, Altair walked over and undid the buckles of the belt, which were annoyingly situated at the back. How do assassins wear these things every day? Who the hell would design such an necessarily difficult outfit? Seriously.

I felt it fall away. I hadn't realised how tight it was until it was off. Wow, I can breathe properly again.

Next I removed the soft leather boots (which I had grown rather fond off. I do have a thing for knee-high boots...and knee-high socks. And the armour protection is just a bonus). Finally, I pulled the main robe over my head, until I was left in the practical close-fitting leggings and tunic. It was pleasantly cool without the woollen robe. Yeah, this was definitely the best option. The robes would likely take all week to dry anyway.

"Ready yet?" Altair asked, probably eager to get the guidance of his precious mini map back,  
"I guess...but I dunno. Is it really safe?"

"The water shouldn't do anything to you. You should be fine," Altair assured me, for the fiftieth time, "But if it makes you feel any better, you can use this," he held up a rope.

"...I thought you said you didn't a have any rope," I reminded him, thinking back to our conversation on the horses.

"Of course I have rope, I'm an assassin. But do you really think I'd actually tie you to a horse? What kind of person do you think I am?"

"...a perverted one who likes to hold girls while they sleep?" I teased,

He scowled, "...Alright then, _don't_ use the rope,"

"Ok fine, you're not a pervert. Just tie me up,"

"...that sentence didn't sound quite right,"

"You know what I mean," I rolled my eyes impatiently.

"Why don't you properly explain what you have in mind, instead of letting people jump to conclusions," Altair retorted, quite clearly trying to annoy me for my earlier vagueness. So much for not stalling.

"I'll tie one end of the rope around me, and you hold the other end, and then when I go into the water, you can pull me out if anything goes wrong," I tediously explained through gritted teeth, although it was a fairly obvious plan.

"Of course. Just what I was about to suggest," he nodded, as if it was his plan all along.

"Sure it was. Just hurry up and pass me the rope," Now it was my turn to be impatient.

I bought the rope in a loop around my waist, and began to tie a knot, when Altair stopped me.

"What kind of knot are you using?" He asked,

"...a double knot...with a bow..." I replied. I'm no girl-scout; my knowledge of knots is limited to what I use to tie my shoes.

"You do realise that will be almost impossible to untie once the rope is wet,"

"...I don't know how to tie it any other way,"

Altair sighed patronisingly, "I'll do it,"

The assassin took the rope and tied some fancy knot that he didn't bother to explain.

"Will it hold?" I asked,

"Of course it will. And when you get back, you can untie it by pulling on the end,"

"Fascinating," I replied unconvincingly,

"Yes well, knowing about knots is part of the job,"

"Yet another thing I'm not going to master here. Thanks."

"So are you ready to go in now?"

I tugged on my life-line to make sure it was secure. "...the rope's a little uncomfortable,"

"It's a rope tied around your waist. What do you expect?"

"Maybe we could tie it higher up as well. Make it into a kind of harness," I suggested, "How long is the rope?"

"Ten metres,"

"Then it should work!"

"Fine, but after this, no more stalling. We're running out of time to kill Robert!"

"Ah relax. We have all the time in the world," I dismissed, "Nothing dramatic will happen until you go back to the bureau once you've completed all the missions. Yet another advantage of game logic,"

"Maybe, but just in case, we shouldn't waste time."

I wound the length of the rope around across the top of my chest and under my arms, and had Altair do his fancy knot again. I tugged at my make-shift harness. Yep, much more comfortable. Now it wasn't likely to bruise internal organs if Altair decided to suddenly pull me out of the river.

"So, are you ready to retrieve the mini-map?" he asked, for the five hundredth time.

"Ready as...steady? What rhymes with 'ready'?"

"No more distractions. Just go!" he demanded impatiently,

"Alright, I'm going. No need to be so pushy,"

I sat down on the stone edge of the river, hanging my feet over the edge before easing myself into the water. It was impossible to tell the depth of the river with the murky water completely obscuring the bottom. I had no idea whether it would be knee-height or deep enough to drown an elephant.

Fortunately, it turned out to be the former. I winced as I stepped into the squishy mud of the river bed. It was cold. And squishy. But as a bonus, the water appeared to be normal (if albeit polluted) with no acidy burning. Perhaps it really was an inability to swim that kept killing Altair...or the Animus was buggy. Either way.

More confident, I took a few steps forward, towards the sparkling statue and the place where I dropped the mini map. The ground seemed to be in a steady decline and the water got higher, but after a few steps, it still only came up to my thighs. I turned around and gave Altair a thumbs up. This was going to be easy.

I took another step forward, but suddenly the ground had disappeared. After a few agonising seconds trying to regain my balance, I fell heavily into the water.

I tumbled underwater in the current for what seemed like ages, before finding the surface again. I coughed out the dirty-tasting water. That had been unexpected. I heard Altair's voice calling me from the river bank, but my water-clogged ears couldn't make sense of his words. I wiped the water from my eyes and blinked blearily, before noticing something glimmer below the surface. I tried to focus on it, but the movement of the water made it impossible. There was definitely something shiny down there. I had to see what it was.

I took a deep breath and dived down to the reflecting object. My outstretched hands hit the bottom, and I tried to feel around for the object. Moments passed, and my lungs began to ache from holding my breath for so long. It would have to resurface soon. I had just about given up on this attempt when I hit something. I reached out desperately to find what it was, and my hand closed around a flat square object. I kicked to the surface, unable to hold my breath any longer. The water seemed to extend endlessly before me, yet the surface lingered tormentingly out of reach. Finally, I broke through the surface, gasping for air. No sooner had I taken my first breath, did I lose it as I was suddenly yanked away via the life-line.

Altair pulled me to shore. "Are you alright? You were down there a long time. I thought you might have drowned," he asked, as I coughed out the last of the water.

"If you thought I was drowning, why didn't you pull me up sooner?" I asked in between gasps of air.

"I asked you if you were ok, and you didn't reply. But then you dived down, so I assumed you knew what you were doing,"

I was too busy getting my breathing back to normal to deliver my usual witty reply.

"So, did you find it?" Altair asked, bringing us back to the whole point of this expedition.

I looked at the flat metal square. It was indeed the mini map GPS thing, but it was lifeless.

"...um, yeah, this is it,"

"What does it say?" he asked eagerly,

"Nothing,"

"Nothing?"

"The screen is blank,"

"...so what happened to the map?"

"Well, I _did_ just pull it up from the bottom of a river. There could be water damage," I replied, "These things aren't usually supposed to go swimming. It can be detrimental. Much like with you."

"So after all that, it's broken?"

"Maybe, I guess,"

"Can you fix it?"

I shook my head, "I wouldn't know where to begin. I'm no tech expert. But there's a chance it'll work again if we let it dry,"

"Will that work?"

"We won't know until we find out," I shrugged, "I wouldn't mind drying off myself,"

"Let's go up to the roof then," Altair suggested, "You should dry more quickly in the full sun,"

Nodding in agreement, I proceed to climb up the ladder of the building behind us and onto the flat, stone roof. I pulled on the short end of the wet rope which stuck out from the second knot, unravelling my harness. Finally free again, I lay down exhaustedly on the roof. It's amazing how tiring almost drowning is.

After a few seconds, I could actually feel the sun's warmth, which was surprising considering the video game world. How did the developers even work out the coding for that?

Moments later, I heard Altair arrive. He dumped all my discarded clothes into a pile next to me.

"Thanks for bringing up my stuff," I said, my eyes still closed as to not be blinded by the fake sun.

Altair sighed and sat down, "How long is this going to take?"

"You're asking me like I know," I shot back, "This is your world; what do you think?"

"I dunno. I haven't had to worry about that for a while,"

"Oh yeah, since you just die and respawn due to your rare water allergy. Such an unfortunate condition," I remarked, "Maybe you can ask the Animus to dry me off too,"

Altair didn't respond, perhaps thinking that ignoring me was the best option.

I sat up and tried to ring-out my hair. That would probably take the longest to dry. It always retains so much water, for some reason. I tried to comb through it with my fingers. I don't suppose there'd be a brush in my robe pockets...I mean, how many assassins would need to carry something like that around? Or maybe the Pocket Gods would make an exception for me...

I was distracted from my musings by excited barking. I looked into the window into my world, and say my dog had chased the cat up the curtains again. Good thing Mum's not around to see it. She hates it when the cat climbs up her stupid overpriced curtains.

"Stop that Gypsy," I scolded loudly, without really thinking. Strangely enough, my dog stopped barking and glanced in my direction.

"What are you doing?" Altair asked,

"My dog just heard me!" I exclaimed.

"Well, of course she would, unless you left the TV on mute or something," Altair shrugged,

"So, I can communicate with people in my world?" I asked,

"I suppose. Assuming there would be people. But there's not right now, is there? Just your dog,"

"She can hear me!" I ignored Altair's pessimism, "Hey Gypsy! Who's my little puppy face?"

Gypsy barked happily and trotted over to the screen. Perhaps she could see me too.

"Come here girl, come on!" I called in a voice most people reserved for infants,

"What are you doing? You can't bring a dog here!" Altair protested,

"Why not?"

"That's just stupid. She can't climb buildings or fight; it's dangerous,"

"So? Neither could I, but that didn't stop you," I retorted and resumed trying to call my dog over, "Come on puppy,"

Gypsy licked the screen and turned her head sadly.

"...she just _licked_ the screen," I remarked to the assassin.

"So? You shouldn't've called her,"

"No, I mean, there's actually something for her to lick. She didn't fall through like I did," I explained,  
"I guess she can't get through then,"

"...but what does that mean for me?" I asked, beginning to panic, "Does that mean the portal or whatever it was that let you pull me here has closed? Does that mean I'm stuck here?"

Altair didn't reply.

"Well? Does it?"

"I can't say," He said finally, "I don't know what forces allowed me to bring you here, or what controls this 'portal'."

The realisation hit hard. "...so I might never be able to go back to my world?" I said in a small voice.

"Maybe,"

I tried to imagine living out the rest of my life here in this world, with no internet, no electricity, none of my friends or family, no women's rights...it was a horrifying thought. "There's no way I'm staying here in this nightmare," I said determinedly, "I didn't even get a choice of going or not in the first place!"

"...It's not _that_ bad,"

I glared at the assassin.

"Ok, fine, this isn't your world, I get it. Sorry for dragging you here," He apologised, "But don't worry, maybe this portal-thing will reopen later,"

"You think so?" I asked hopefully,

"Why not? If it opened once, it could happen again, right?" he reasoned.

That sounded reasonable, "I hope so. Maybe it'll reopen at a certain point. Like, since this is a game, it might let me go once we've reached the end, whenever that is,"

"Even more reason to get back to the task-at-hand," Altair agreed,

"I suppose," I agreed, "I think I've dried off enough to get back to work,"

"Good, then let us go,"

"Wait, I've got to get dressed first!" I said quickly, picking the assassins robes out from my pile of clothes.

Altair sighed, "Ok, but after that, no more interruptions,"

I scoffed. Yeah right.

* * *

_I know I said I'd have this up before the weekend, but that was a lie. Well, not an intentional lie...I'd forgotten about how busy my weekend was supposed to be. Friday was Web Comic day, and so I spent half of that finishing that day's comic that I had neglected the rest of the week, and then painted a bit for fun. And then my Saturday was taken up volunteering at the Zoo and then going out for a friend's 19__th__. It's one of the few times I've actually been to town (since turning legal), and I reckon it's kinda overrated. All you do is walk, dance and drink. Most places have the music up so loud that you can't really talk without losing your voice. But there are certainly some merits in drinking and jump-dancing for 5 hours, before stumbling to the Taxi pick-up and sneaking back home at 4am (and then going to work tired and hungover by 11am XD). It's fun, but not something I could manage more than once a week. _

_Which is lucky for you, because it means I can spend my sober days writing this (When I'm not procrastinating...which I'm trying to not do). _

_And that is my explanation. I hope you enjoyed the chapter regardless of lateness. _

_The Gorillaz latest album, Plastic Beach, is coming out next month. As a HUGE Gorillaz fan, I'm super excited. _

_Just thought I'd let you know :D_

_Anyway, thanks a bunch to the fantastic people who continue to review each chapter, despite my constant inability to deliver on my promises most of the time. I really don't know where I'd be without your support. Maybe busy playing Mass Effect, having abandoned this fic like I've inadvertently done in most all my other stories. But no, thanks to you, this may very well become my first completed multi-chapter story ever. We're making history, people. And it's all thanks to you :D_

_...continued reviews will help secure this victory for the people (or my ego, at least). :D_

_And I'm not going to tell you when I plan to post the next chapter, as I'd probably end up lying to you again. So instead, I'm going to surprise you. Hopefully, it will be a pleasant surprise. _


	19. Chapter 19

_A/n: I actually did a bit of research for this chapter, like, in terms of names (you'll see why when you get to it). But I had to name a number of new one-off characters, so I thought the effort was worth it, rather than my usual method of inventing names off the top of my head (haha, Bashiel, I totally have to find a way to use this name again someday...). All research was done on my favourite name etymology site, Behind the Name. It actually conveniently enough had an entire Biblical name section :D (which is about right considering the time and setting...) So no matter how modern the names I use here sound, I can assure you, they have ancient biblical origins. And meanings. And thus I consider them therefore somewhat accurate (although to be really accurate, I should probably have more Mohammad's and Jesus'...those were/are actually fairly common names, apparently). _

_But enough chatter, on to the chapter:_

* * *

Part 19

"Ok, I think that's enough time-wasting for one day. Time to get back to the missions," Altair began as I finished buckling on my arm gauntlet things, "Does the mini map work now? What does it say?"

I looked down at the black device. The screen was still blank and lifeless. Great, after all that effort, it's still broken. Would it ever work again? Did it just need more time? Or had the murky water done it irreparable damage?...should I be worried about what it would do to me? Who knows that kind of bacteria could be in that river...

"Well?" the assassin had crossed his arms impatiently, waiting for an answer.

Shit, what am I supposed to tell him? Why did I have to drop it in the river? It's all that bloody eagle's fault. I swear, if I ever see that flying rat again, I'll –

"You know, your silence isn't very reassuring," Altair remarked.

"Oh," I coughed, "It works. I was right. I was just, ah, pausing for dramatic timing,"

"Don't. What does the map say?" he inquired again,

"Um, it says...we go that way," I pointed randomly at the city,

"What kind of mission is it?"

"....ah, informant...or pickpocket...I can't tell. All these icons look pretty much the same," I shrugged, "Doesn't matter. We'll have to do them all eventually,"

Altair nodded, "Alright then. Lead the way,"

"Me? Lead?"

"Well, you've got the mini map, have you not? But I can take it if you don't want to –"

"No, that's alright. I'll lead," I said quickly, running over to the edge of the roof and climbing back down to the street. I glanced back. Altair jumped down and landed next to me. Gotta find something quick. I ran along street and over the bridge, disappearing back into the streets of the Poor District with the assassin easily keeping pace.

I ran vaguely in a westerly direction (well, I assume it's west. I can't really tell without the mini map's compass), making random twists and turns, and doing my best to keep up the momentum and not give Altair the option to question me about the destination. Unfortunately, I'm no athlete, and it wasn't long before I was doubled over, clutching my stomach due to a terrible stitch and panting pathetically. Damn video games and their undeniable superiority over regular exercise.

Altair stood by, perfectly composed as usual. "You know, we've only been running for like ten minutes,"

"Shut...up..." I wheezed in between gasps for air. Why couldn't I have been pulled into a game like Harvest Moon, or Barbie Horse Adventures?

"Are we getting close? It doesn't usually take this long to get to the mission locations," Altair remarked suspiciously. I could tell he was beginning to suspect this was all a ruse.

I looked out at the street desperately, trying to think of something to throw him off with. Suddenly, as if it were a miracle sent by the Pocket Gods themselves, I saw him; an Assassin Informant. Bless you Pocket Gods and your Polyester Prophets!

"We're here," I finally announced proudly, nodding to the assassin standing unsuspectingly in a doorway who was shuffling his feet with boredom.

"So we are. I have to admit, I thought you were just making it up when you said you knew where we were going," Altair confessed, "Glad to know it was just an elaborate hoax, and that you're not really that stupid,"

I unconvincingly tried to laugh it off. Ha ha ha, arrogant bastard.

Altair reclaimed the lead and walked over to meet his fellow assassin.

"Safety and peace, Altair," the high-pitch voiced man greeted.

"Safety and peace," Altair returned, in his undoubtedly manly voice.

"Who is your friend?" the informant asked, spotting me as I stood inconspicuously, trying to fix my still-damp hair.

"She's, ah, my apprentice," Altair improvised. Well, I guess that's not entirely untrue.

"I see. Nice to meet you, apprentice," he greeted.

"Um, nice to meet you too," I said. Wow, I really have to work on my conversational skills.

"So, I hear you have some information I might need," Altair inquired, probably trying to move things long before his companion asked more questions about me and my supposed apprenticeship. Like, why I was sent along with him on such a dangerous and crucial mission when apprentices are probably usually trained for years in Masyaf.

"Yes, I do have some interesting information which will undoubtedly be useful to you," the informant began, "but I'm afraid that in exchange for such information, I need a favour,"

Of course, information is like a commodity to these people. And it wasn't likely to come cheap. Oh, what I'd give for just once to have them request something simple, like helping to move a couch or solve a riddle. But no, he probably wants us to kill people. Assassins are unimaginative like that.

"Speak, and it shall be done," Altair replied dutifully.

"I need you to...escort some people out of the city," the Informant informed us. (pun intended).

"...What kind of people?" I asked.

"My family,"

Well, this as interesting turn of events.

"I don't know what exactly is happening here in Jerusalem," he elaborated, "but the Templars are planning something big, and while I have complete faith in your abilities to stop them, Altair, I want to get my family out now, while it's still safe,"

"This is certainly an...interesting request," Altair remarked, clearly as surprised as I was.

"I know. I would do it myself, but I've got a few last leads to investigate before I go," the assassin informant explained, "I just need you to do this for me while I tie-up business in the city. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important,"

Wow, and to think usually it's the other way around, with the guy asking _us_ to finish up his assassin work while he flees himself.

"I know you're the best, Altair. It would mean a lot if I knew my wife and children were in safe hands," he added, sucking up perhaps to the superior assassin's ego. Like he needed that.

"Alright then, I'll do it," Altair agreed, somewhat surprisingly, "What do I need to know?"

"Thank you. My wife Naomi will be waiting at the southern entrance of the bazaar. Just escort them safely out the gate and to the border. A caravan is waiting to take them the rest of the way to Masyaf, but I need you to get them past the guards. I hear they're targeting the families of suspected assassins these days, and I can't take any chances,"

"I understand," Altair nodded. I wondered if he really did. "We'll leave right away,"

The informant nodded graciously, "Thank you Altair. And good luck,"

"So, we're going to be protecting civilians now," I commented as we walked away.

"So it seems," Altair agreed.

"That's certainly different from any of the other missions we've had to do in the past," I continued.

"Would you rather collect thirty flags in three minutes?" he challenged,

"...no. I like this much better," I assured him.

"As do I. I know where we need to go, so don't worry about the mini map,"

I sighed in relief. I could hold off revealing my web of lies for another day. Success.

* * *

We found the woman we were looking for right were the informant said she would be, as expected. But what we didn't except was to find her holding a baby. That must be the family he was talking about. But how hard could it be to sneak and woman and a baby out of a city?

She looked up eagerly as we approached. "Are you Altair?" the woman asked, her lack of caution giving her away entirely as a civilian unaware of the dangers of asking a question like that to just anyone,

"Yes," Altair replied cautiously.

"Good," she sighed in relief, "my husband said you would be coming to help us,"

"Wow, he must have the gift of foresight," I remarked quietly.

"Are you ready to leave?" Altair asked.

"Just a moment," she replied, before whistling. Suddenly, six more children appeared out of nowhere. "Now we can go."

I was stunned. "...seven kids?" I asked, "Really?"

Naomi smiled apologetically, "I know our family may seem a bit big..."

"But _seven_ kids?"

"Well, we only had two and a half when we moved here..." she replied defensively,

"Two and a half? How can you have half a child?" Altair asked.

"She was pregnant," I explained, "Right?"

Naomi nodded.

"But you're husband's an assassin! Haven't you ever wondered what you would do with all the kids if he died?" I asked.

"Well yes. When you're husband is an assassin, you find yourself wondering every day if he'll make it home for dinner. But that danger is partly what has sustained the passion in our marriage all these years," she admitted somewhat hesitantly.

"...ohh, I get it," I replied, "I guess that kinda makes sense,"

"It does?" Altair replied, clearly not following.

I rolled my eyes. There's no way I'm explaining this one. "Just go with it," I told him.

"So, this is all of them?" I asked Naomi, eyeing the small sea of bobbing heads. I counted three boys and three girls, and whatever gender the infant was. The eldest child, a girl, looked to be about nine-years-old...but then again, I used to keep thinking my thirteen-year-old cousin was nine, so perhaps I'm not the best judge of age (although to be fair, she is especially short).

"Yes, these are all our children; Abigail, Chloe, Eli, Daniel, Hannah, Peter, and baby Isaiah," she listed, nodding to each of the children in turn. I assumed it was in order of age. The youngest walking child, Peter, clutched his mothers' skirts protectively, sucking his thumb. If I had to guess, I'd say he was no more than four-years-old. He looked up at me with big blue eyes. I resisted the urge to ruffle his tuft of brown hair.

He almost looked like a mini-Altair...or at least what I imagined the Master Assassin might have looked like as a young boy. But that wasn't really saying anything, since he was probably the poster-child for all adorable young males with brown hair and blue eyes.

The eldest child, Abigail I think her name was, stepped up confidently, "Daddy says you're going to help us avoid the bad men," she announced.

Altair simply stared at her curiously, probably not used to conversing with people so young and innocent.

"Yes, we are," I told her for him.

"Good. I hate those bloody Templars," She replied bitterly.

I gawked. Is this kid for real? Where did she learn such language at her age? "...yeah, we'll do our best,"

I turned to Altair, "So, how do you want to do this?" I asked.

Altair eyed the roof-tops. "If the Templars are in fact targeting this family, there's every chance of an attack by archers," He remarked.

"How are we supposed to protect them from that as well as any guards on the ground?" I asked, feeling overwhelmed.

"Well, I was thinking you could travel with the woman and children through the streets, and I'll follow you from above, taking out guards as I go," he proposed, "And if you run into any trouble down here, I'll be able to jump down and assist,"  
"Sounds good," I agreed, "It'll probably be less suspicious to have two women accompanying children out the city anyway. If anyone asks, we can say we're taking them for a walk or something,"

Altair shrugged, "Perhaps. Just be prepared for any attacks. Make sure your blades are within reach at all time and don't let your guard down. There could be any number of knights and armed guards in our path," he advised.

I reached for my sword, wishing that I actually had some sort of training before all this danger. You can only get lucky and wing it so many times, afterall. And all my past battles were flukes, which relied on having Altair at my side to take on the brunt of the assault. I might not be so lucky next time.

I sighed, "Well, I suppose we'd better get this over with. Maybe we'll be lucky and all the guards will be on a lunch break, or something,"

Altair laughed at my optimism before scaling the nearest wall and perching on the roof's edge, waiting for us to start.

I turned back to Naomi and the kids, "So, are you guys ready to leave Jerusalem?"

"I've been ready since we first arrived," Naomi replied, pulling up the hood of her pale blue dress. It hid her identify fairly well. What comes of being an assassin's wife, I guess. To my surprise, all the children had hoods on their clothes too. Yeah, because there's nothing suspicious about a bunch of kids wearing scholar hoods through the city. I wanted to object, but decided it wouldn't do any good. These people were likely a target anyway. Maybe the hoods would at least surprise any approaching guards long enough to give us time to run.

I followed Naomi at the front of the procession, her children in tow. Luckily she knew where we were going, so we didn't have to rely on my non-existent navigating skills in this large city.

We passed through the streets surprisingly undisturbed. I kept glancing up to look for the reassuring sign of Altair. He seemed to be following us uninterrupted as of yet.

It wasn't until we passed a back alley until we were stopped by Templar forces.

"Halt. You there, drop the hood," the armour-clad guard demanded, his sword unsheathed and ready to strike us into compliance. He was staring at Naomi.

Graciously, she pulled down her hood and smiled innocently at the guard. He studied her carefully for a moment, before reaching into his pouch and pulling out a scroll. He unfurled the scroll and held it up, his small black eyes glancing from Naomi to the scroll and vice versa.

"Is there a problem?" She asked in a soft voice,

The guard grunted, "You should come with me." He made motions of reaching for her arm to lead her away, but Naomi was prepared. She gripped the man's shoulders and pulled him down, kneeing him in the gut. He fell to the ground in a heap.  
"Run, children!" she called, taking the hand of her nearest offspring (Daniel) and running down the street.

We madly dashed through the thinning crowd of bystanders, who stopped to stare at us curiously. There was a strangled cry, and I turned back to see the youngest non-infant, Peter, sprawled on the floor. I doubled back and scooped him up, before rushing to catch up again with Naomi and the other kids. The boy wrapped his little arms around my neck, holding on so tight that it was almost difficult to breath. But there was no time to worry about that; the guard Naomi had knocked down before had gotten up and was giving chase.

I could see the gates coming up in the distance and miraculously, the road ahead was clear. We were going to make it. But, of course, I spoke too soon.

Two burly guards stepped out into our path, accompanied by a knight. They took an offensive stance, one that I usually only saw when trying to run on horseback. It was a dead end.

We all skidded to a halt just metres away from the armed men. I repositioned Peter on my other shoulder so I could reach for my sword, but we were undoubtedly at a disadvantage.

Just as I was beginning to lose hope, a white blur dropped spectacularly from the sky and onto the knight. Altair pulled the short blade from the dead knight and engaged the remaining guards with this sword.

"Go!" he shouted at us as he dodged an attack and performed a back swing, impaling one of the guards through the chest.

We needed no further prompting, and pushed on for the final dash to the gates. The guards standing at the gate didn't seem to notice us until we were just metres away, which luckily enabled us to run past them before they had time to respond.

Finally, we were out of the city, but the danger wasn't over yet. I heard the roar of the gate-guards collecting themselves to chase after us, so I directed the troop to the side of the field; to the make-shift stables where the horses grazed. Naomi caught on to the plan, and jumped into the hay pile, her children following her one-by-one. Peter and I were the last to join them, but we did so just in time. Moments later, I heard the clatter of armoured footsteps as the guards ambled around the stables.

"Damnit, they got away," One of the men grumbled.

We remained hidden until we were certain they were gone. Out of the hay, Naomi did a head-count on her children. She paused suddenly, "Where is Hannah?"

I scanned the landscape desperately, but all I found were merchant stands and ambling pedestrians. The only children were those huddled around us, and to be honest, they were the first children I'd actually seen in this game at all. I wonder where the rest are hiding...

Peter tugged on my robes and pointed up. I followed his gaze and found Altair, jumping expertly over the unsuspecting guards along the wooden scaffolding of the gate, and down to the empty cart at the side. And tossed over his shoulder was the missing girl. He put Hannah down and she ran to her mother, who hugged her tightly.

"Found her being corned by some guards on the other side," Altair explained briefly,

"Great work," I nodded, "Are be still being followed, or did you managed to deal with everyone?"

"All the pursuers are dead. And if we take a short cut up the hill, we should avoid the last of the guards," Altair replied.

"Thank you," Naomi said, still hugging her daughter tearfully. I could see the stress of the last hour really getting to her. Almost losing two children must be like a parent's worst nightmare.

Altair nodded, "When you're ready, we should go. You don't want to keep your ride waiting."

Thankfully, the final hike up the hill and to the border was relatively uneventful. A small caravan was waiting for us, just as we were told. We said a final goodbye to the family as the children climbed into the cart. Altair stood detached at the side of the road, keeping an eye out for any more guards.

"Thank you, once again," Naomi thanked us, "If it weren't for you two, we might have never gotten out of Jerusalem safely,"

"It was no problem," I shrugged, "Are you sure you guys will be fine travelling the rest of the way on your own?"

"We have some more escorts from Masyaf with us; we'll be fine," she assured me, "and my husband should only be a day or two behind us,"

"Well, good luck then," I replied finally.

We watched the caravan disappeared into the distance.

"That wasn't so bad," I remarked.

"It never occurred to me that having a family could be so dangerous," Altair admitted.

"Well, only if you're an assassin, I guess," I replied, without really thinking, "...which I suppose you are...but you managed to protect these guys fairly well. And if it were really dangerous, there wouldn't be so many other assassins with families asking you to kill people for them so they can go fetch some milk on their way home,"

But Altair seemed unconvinced, so I decided to play the obligation card.

"Don't worry about it right now Altair. But don't think you can just decide it's too hard and give up. You _have_ to procreate in order to continue the story, remember? Otherwise, who is in the Animus, living this memory?" I pointed out, briefly remembering that yes, this was supposed to be a memory being re-lived by Desmond...I wonder if I could reach him somehow...

Altair rolled his eyes, "I doubt there will be time for such luxuries as long as Robert and the Templars are still a threat," he replied coldly.

"All the more reason to get back to the informant and deliver the good news," I chirped cheerfully.

He nodded, "Let's go then,"

"Ok, but just one question,"

"What?"

"How do we get back into the city?"

* * *

_...I really hope people are getting the sarcasm...when it's there...sometimes I wish I was reading this aloud as a youtube vid or something...but I'd have to get people to do some of the voices...hmm, who would be a good Altair?..._

_And this isn't some comment on people with large families. I mean, sure, to me, having that many kids is pretty mental. Especially considering my own family and all the families I know are composed of no more than two or three children, and so anything larger than that seems strange, and anything more than 5 is just insane, but that's just my opinion. I'm not going to go into politics or Overpopulation here. If people want and can handle (in more ways than one) such large families, that's their prerogative. _

_Naomi is just lucky she doesn't have to send all seven kids to college (at least in the apparent American tradition where the bill is the parent's responsibility. Over here, we pay for our tertiary education ourselves...although my parents *are* paying for my text books...those damn paper-weights are so darn expensive)_

_I know this should've been uploaded sooner...or rather, finished sooner, BUT I was stuck for the longest time on what to write. In fact, I only worked out what the Informant was going to request on Saturday. And then the rest of my weekend was taken up by social events and working, so I couldn't write it until today...and then I got distracted reading some fics, which I haven't done in months and feel kinda bad about because I promised some people I would read their work, and some I still haven't gotten to, while others I only read this morning. If you're one of the former people, I apologise. I haven't really done much reading at all lately. Like, really. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy has been sitting on top my book pile, unopened for months. And I don't really have any excuse, considering how short it is (at least compared to the monster-sized novels which make up the rest of my pile). I think it's partly because I spend late nights up writing or RPing on MSN rather than in bed, reading like I used to. Maybe that'll change when the holidays end. _

_But yeah, this chapter was also delayed because it took so long to write. But it's fairly long, so may that makes up for its lateness...because the quality probably doesn't. I don't like this chapter much. I hope I make the next one more interesting... _

_Speaking of holidays, I only have a week left, and this time next week, I'll be in my new room, at Uni. Probably in some boring lecture. What this means is I'll probably have less time to write, and so I can't say if I'll be able to handle weekly updates anymore. We'll see how it goes, but I'll try to not let my studies take up too much of my time. Although, as I've said before, they must come first. (But between you and me, I think writing about ancient assassins is far more interesting than learning Plant and Animal Biochemistry._

_But anyway, thanks for all the reviews so far, and yeah, keep 'em coming if you think I should be writing this rather than studying next week...boy I hope we don't get much to do in the first week...that would be mean..._


	20. Chapter 20

_A/n: hmm...*checks pulse*....yep, I'm not dead. _

_I'm so sorry it's been over a month since the last chapter. If you want to know what happened, well, Uni happened. This first term has been incredibly hectic, leaving very little time to write or do anything remotely creative, which has led me to greatly despise my stupid science course. It's so dull. And I really don't see the need to know the exact process of message transport in the nervous system, but it's examinable, so there we go. _

_I'll do what I can to try and keep up somewhat frequent updates (I think once a month at least would be nice), but I can't make any promises. I've already got an exam second week back when holidays finish, and then my holidays themselves are being interrupted by some compulsory camp they're making me go on for 3 nights in the middle of god-damn nowhere (like seriously, it's the middle of the desert somewhere, 5 hours from civilisation...if I don't come back, you can be my witness for suing the uni). _

_But apologies and explanations aside, I've hit the 200 review mark. Wow guys, you're all...you're just too much. So awesome. I can't thank you enough, except to say here's the long-awaited chapter 20!_

* * *

Part 20

Getting back into the city was easier, yet harder, than I had anticipated. Obviously, simply walking past the guards was out of the question and the scholars hadn't re-appeared in the copse of trees, so we were out of luck there. Our only option was to climb along the convenient wooden beams which ran along the top of the gate archway...and when I say 'climb', I of course mean 'jump across'. My earlier attempts to climb/crawl across gaps, like I used to on the monkey bars back in primary school, had failed quite epically. But many people underestimate the difficulty of leaping across and successfully landing on wooden beams in a cat-like manner, which I'm sure is easy if you are in fact a cat, but not so much if you're human. Unless, of course, you're Altair; Master Assassin and King of jumping-across-things.

After climbing onto the side-beam from the conveniently placed empty cart, I crawled along to the archway entrance. With much struggling, I turned to face the entrance and consequently the next beam. It looked dreadfully far away. I eyed the closest guard, just a metre or so below me, as he sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand nonchalantly. Just one slip and I'd fall right on top of him. What would happen next didn't seem promising.

I tried to ignore the impending danger and concentrate on the path ahead of me. Altair did this all the time; how hard could it be?

Getting into a crouching position, and trying to steady myself on my perch, I focused on the next beam, and only the beam, ignoring everything else; the chirping of invisible birds, the murmur of the crowd just beyond the gate, the shuffling of bored guards, and the happy steps of Altair as he cleared the last of the wooden beams ahead of me and disappeared around the corner. Show off.

I tensed my muscles and leapt, propelling myself from the beam like a flight-less bird with a death-wish (not an entirely inaccurate analogy). After a few terrifying split-seconds in the air, I narrowly landed on the wooden beam. I bit my tongue to stop myself from loudly sighing in relief. I looked back at my starting point. The gap seemed even bigger from this side; there's no way I would've been able to make that jump normally. Whatever perverted gravity mechanics are at work, I was thankful. I looked back forward to the three remaining jumps with more confidence than I had with the last one. Perhaps Altair shouldn't be given _all_ the credit.

The next jump went just as smoothly as the last (...perhaps "smooth" isn't the right word...but still). But on the third jump, just as I grabbed onto the beam and tried to land, my left foot lost its grip and I slipped. I scrambled to stay on the thin beam, as my leg dangled just inches away from one of the guards' heads. I winced and waited for the inevitable cry of startled guards, who would probably grab my ankle and pull me down to a spiky death. But moments passed, and nothing. My ankle remained ungrabbed. I tentatively pulled my leg back up and crouched on the beam. I looked down at the guards. They might as well have been made of wax. No response at all.

Hoping to make the most of my lucky streak, I made the final jump to the last beam, finally entering the city again. The adrenalin rush from my death-defying leaps raced through my veins, making the final crawl to the scaffolding on the side all the harder with my uncontrollable shaking.

I reached my destination and a helping hand reached down as I clambered up the final scaffold steps from the gate beams and pulled me up to the platform.

"I still say it would've been easier to wait for scholars," I gasped, out of breath as usual.

"Perhaps, but it wouldn't have been as quick," Altair replied simply.

"How do you do that every time?" I demanded. My hands were still shaking.

Altair shrugged, "It was either that or take on the guards, and that's hardly very subtle. You saw how annoyed Malik was last time,"

I glanced back down at the unsuspecting guards. I had thought for sure that they would've noticed when I almost kicked one of them in head, but I guess they don't really see anything that's not eye level. Or wearing a white hood. Game-logic wins the day again!

"Speaking of game-logic…" I remembered,  
"Huh? Who said anything about game-logic?" Altair asked, confused,  
"Don't worry about that. Internal dialogue," I dismissed, "Anyway, how's your arm?"

"Fine," He replied cautiously,

"Great. Let's see the damage," I said enthusiastically, glad for the change of topic.

"What? Why?" he shrunk away.

"Take off your shirt. I wanna see if the game bandage has healed you yet," I explained,

"Now?" he asked in disbelief,

"Now's as good a time as any," I shrugged,

"But what's the point of all this? You're just wasting time!" He demanded, clearly fond of keeping his clothes on in public, which I suppose is reasonable.

"The point is to get you shirtless, obviously," I replied, half sarcastically, "Come on, I've never seen you get injured like that before. It's interesting. I wanna see how well you do without the Animus' interventions,"  
Altair sighed defeatedly, "Fine. Just don't take too long. There are people down there,"

"There are always people down there. I'm beginning to wonder if they actually have homes to go to," I replied.

With little other choice, Altair pulled down his hood and reached under his collar to unfasten the first of the hidden buttons that held the robe-shirt together. A few buttons later, he shrugged down one shoulder, pulling the shirt down his arm just enough to expose the blood-stained bandage. The blood didn't look fresh, so at least the wound wasn't still bleeding, but there's only so much you can see above bandages. I unclipped the clasp and proceeded to unravel the bandage, an agonizingly slow process. Had it taken this long to wrap it? Or was I too distracted by the surrounding muscles to notice? That was always a possibility, I decided whilst eyeing the assassin's firm chest, which he had poorly tried to hide with the other half of his shirt. Quite pointless really. Why keep something that glorious from the world?

Finally, I reached the end of the roll of the bandage, and pulled the linen away completely. I was amazed. There was nothing; not a mark or scratch on him. Not even a bruise.

"Wow," I remarked, "it's like you were never even hit," I looked back at the bandage, which was also suddenly spotless. There really is nothing like game-logic.

Altair examined his arm, running his other hand over where the cut was. "So it is," he agreed happily, "Great. I didn't really need any more scars anyway,"

"You have more than just the one on your lips?" I asked,

"…a few," he revealed.

"Where?"

"One on my back, and…well…just…places…" he trailed off.

I smiled in amusement. Places eh? Makes you wonder how he got those.

"Well, I think it's time we got back to the informant," Altair decided, pulling his sleeve back up and re-doing the buttons of his robe shirt.

"I hope he has better information for us than Robert's favourite colour," I replied, sad to see those muscles disappear behind the speedily-donned robes.

Altair grunted in agreement and pulled his hood back up, his eyes disappearing in the shadow again.

"Maybe he can tell us Robert's favourite food," I said enthusiastically,

"If he does, we'll have to find a new informant," Altair replied, his eyes indicating that the reason would likely be pointy...and fatal. Coincidently, of course.

"It wouldn't be so bad. Maybe we could poison Robert's next meal. Whilst singing his favourite musical number. "

Altair groaned and jumped onto the adjacent roof.

"And we could do it on Robert's favourite day of the week!"

* * *

We found our informant in the same spot we left him, unsurprisingly. Which was lucky. Altair hadn't mentioned using the mini map to re-find him, but if he _had_ moved, perhaps he might've. And then I would have to reveal the extent of my grandiose lie and shortcomings. You'd think such a crucial part of the game would be more durable.

"You're back," the informant greeted, somewhat enthusiastically, "Everything went well, I trust?"

"Yes, your wife and children are safely on a caravan heading for Masyaf," Altair confirmed.

"Yeah, _all_ your children," I added.

"Thank god. I was hoping the rumours were true," the informant sighed,

"All bloody _seven_ on them," I continued, muttering.

Altair stood there in gracious smugness (which is totally possible, let me tell you).

"But the fact that I heard rumours at all is disappointing," the informant added sourly.

The assassin's smugness was replaced with disbelief.

"Excuse me?" I demanded, sharing his annoyance.

"Half the city is talking of your escapades, and the fact you exposed my wife and children to such danger is inexcusable," the ungrateful informant lectured.

"Your wife had a bounty on her head. And do you even realise how hard it is to move a group of people that size around without getting noticed? You're lucky you still have a wife and children to complain about," Altair protested quite animatedly. "Yeah, you didn't tell us you had so many kids. _We're_ the ones who have the right to be angry; you should've warned us earlier." I added.

"...but then you wouldn't have done it," the informant replied weakly.  
"Exactly," I nodded.  
"No, we still would have done it. We just would've been better prepared; maybe scouted a less guarded exit," Altair corrected me, "You of all people should know the dangers of misinformation,"

The informant shuffled his feet guiltily. "Ok, fine, you're right. But I was just so desperate. You don't know what it's been like around here. Templars have been raiding random houses for weeks, trying to find any trace of the Brotherhood. They hit our neighbour's just the other day, killed everyone inside; even their four-year old son. It was only a matter of time until we were discovered," he explained.

Well damn, I can't stay mad at a family man, "Well at least they're safe now," I comforted.

"Anyway, the job is done. What information do you have for us?" Altair asked, bringing us back on topic as usual.

"Of course. I learned something quite remarkable about the Templar's purpose here in Jerusalem recently."

"Great. Let's hear it," I encouraged,

"I heard that the Templars...are here to attend a funeral," the informant announced, with far too much drama than the information warranted.

"...Really? I thought they were here for prom," I replied sarcastically, "Seriously? That's all you have? I heard like five different merchants talking about the funeral on the way over here,"

The informant shrugged, "I never said it was good information. Just that I had information,"

I saw Altair clench his fists.

"That better not be all you have," I translated, which is ironic because I'm not even sure I was really speaking English, "May I remind you of all the guards we fought off...that Altair fought off. Not to mention your slow kids who kept being left behind and had to be saved,"

The informant held up his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, that's all I know at this point,"

Altair expressed in glares more than I could with ten minutes of chain-swearing.

Informant turned a few shades whiter. "But, I think I know someone who might be able to tell you more,"

"Who is this person?" Altair asked sternly.

"A confidant. He's the most informed person this side of the Red Sea. He'll be able to tell you plenty,"

"Where can we find him?"

"He's highly guarded. You won't be able to get through his bodyguards without my seal," the informant elaborated. He reached into this robes and pulled out some folded parchment, sealed with a wax seal. "Take this note and deliver it to him. It will get you past the bodyguards and grant you a private audience. You can ask your questions then,"

I was surprised. Maybe this guy wasn't a complete waste of time afteral.

"And in the mean time, I have another contact to see. Perhaps I will also have some real information for you then," the informant added hopefully.

Altair seemed to agree that this was enough to let him walk away unmarred.

"So, where is he?" I reiterated Altair's ignored question from before.

"In the middle district, in the alley right of the central courtyard. Look for a pot of daises; that's the marker," he explained, "There's a map on the back of the note,"

I sighed in relief. I'd dodged another mini-map bullet, for now.

Without so much as a "Goodbye" or "I'll be back", Altair stalked away. I shrugged to the pale informant.

"You'd better have something more useful next time," I told him calmly, "Or it's probably best if you make yourself scarce. Altair doesn't like being disappointed,"

He nodded shakily before disappearing down in the backstreets behind him. I ran to catch up to Altair.

The assassin was waiting for me, perched on a wall which gave him a vast view of the lower district below us.

I thought over how to best deal with this, before choosing "That guy was pretty scared,"

"Good. Maybe he'll learn not to take me lightly next time," Altair replied sternly.

"...yeah, but don't you think it was a bit much?" I asked,

Instead of replying, Altair turned his back to me and stretching out the back of his robe. There was a large hole, as if someone had grabbed his robes and ripped or badly cut the material off in some sort of conflict...which was probably an accurate description.

"A guard did that when I went back for the girl," he explained, "That's the second time this week I've had my clothes damaged. This sort of thing didn't happen before..."

"Before I arrived?" I finished.

"...well yes,"

"So it's my fault?" I suggested.

"I didn't say that." He said quickly.

"But you think my presence in the game has something to do with all these anomalies. Like you getting hurt." I continued.

"Maybe." He agreed, hesitantly.

"You're probably right," I replied, "Whatever mechanics is running this game world, my insertion is probably messing with the _status quo_. I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining kittens...although I hope it doesn't. The massacre would be horrible,"

Altair remained silent, despite my obviously hilarious joke.

"But there's nothing we can do about it now," I continued, "I'm here, and for the moment, I can't go back. I guess we'll just have to watch out for whatever more glitches arise,"

"I don't regret bringing you here, you know," Altair said suddenly.

"...um, you don't regret tearing me away from my normal life and throwing me into this chaos? Thanks, I think?"

"I meant you're actually useful to have around, sometimes. I think a few glitches are worth the company," he replied, with more warmth than I'd ever seen him express, ever. Now I _know_ this is some sort of game glitch.

"Even with my witty banter and mini-map breaking?" I quipped,

"You said the mini-map was working again," he reminded me,

Shit, why did I have to bring it up? "Oh, it is. I meant before,"

"Sure, despite all that, I like having you around. It certainly makes things more entertaining than if I were on my own, although less efficient."

Great, now I'm a travelling clown.

"Well, perhaps we should move the entertainment to a wider audience," I replied, "Such as this confidant. It could prove very rewarding,"

"And if it doesn't, I can watch you jump off View Points again," Altair suggested.

I laughed, "Ha ha ha, shut up."

* * *

_So yeah, again, I'm sorry that took so long. I'll try and get another chapter out before Uni goes back, but no promises. _

_And while I can't promise my "review for quick updates" deal for a while (until the mid-year break at least), I would still greatly appreciate any reviews you want to give me. _

_It's amazing to have such an awesome and loyal group of readers. You guys and your kind words really do keep me going on those long creatively-stunting science-filled nights. _

_Until next time..._


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/n: Wow, it's been months since I last updated. I feel I owe you guys somewhat of an explanation...so, here it is. (feel free to skip)**_

_**I'm a uni student, as I may have mentioned before. And whole normally I'd probably still have the time to study and write without 3-month delays, this semester one of my subjects was Biochemistry. And, yes, it's as hard as the name suggests. It's in fact apparently the most difficult subject in my entire 3-year science degree. And I still think I probably failed it. But yeah, with trying to juggle biochem along with all the other prac reports, essays and assignments of my other subjects, I just found myself with no time except late at night, where all I could bring myself to do was watch a whole bunch of YouTube videos. **_

_**BUT Now that my exams are done and first semester is over, and (hopefully) I'll never have to do Biochem again, I think the prospect of keeping somewhat regular updates over the next semester is significantly better. My next lot of subjects are apparently infinitely easier than Biochem, with Comparative Anatomy and Physiology probably being the only exception (but it's still easier than Biochem), so I think I won't have to take any more massive breaks like that anymore. Hopefully. But I'm not making any promises. I won't know until the semester starts, and I have two and a half weeks off before then, so let's make the most of it. **_

_**Stuff that's happened since my last update...Oh, I turned 19. As of last Thursday. And now have my full drivers license. And...oh, had a short story I wrote accepted by the Theatre Guild for my Uni to be turned into a play. I can't really think of much higher validation for my writing. It's pretty awesome. It won't be performed until September, but I promise to tell you how it goes. Unless you happen to live in my city/plan to come to Australia in the next few months and want to see it. **_

_**All in all, it's something pretty impressive that I'll be able to put on my CV for when I apply to get into that creative writing degree, or get a job in the industry. I really should enter writing comps more often. **_

_**Anyway, enough stalling. If you happen to care about my life and want to know more, you're free to follow my blogs on my deviant art account (.com). And for the rest of you brilliant people, on with Chapter 21!**_

* * *

Chapter 21

I hopped exhaustedly off the small brick wall, taking my place next to the solemn assassin as he gazed out at the moving crowd of the courtyard. How many courtyards where there in Jerusalem? What was it with its obsession with courtyards? It's like there's practically one everywhere you look; the Starbucks of the 10th century.

This particular courtyard was decorated with a fountain with a jumping dolphin statue in the middle. Why and how they even knew what a dolphin looked like in the middle of the desert remained a mystery, but there it was. Maybe it was imported from Greece or something.

I looked up at Altair. He remained staring at something on the other side of the courtyard, beyond the fountain, at the pot of daises which stood at the entrance of a small alley. His glazed expression indicated his eagle vision. That would explain why he could be so enthralled with whatever was happening on the other side of the foamy splashy water spectacular and its marble idol.

"Do you see him?" I asked.

"No," he shook his head slightly, "All I can see are his bodyguards. They look a bit stronger than the usual guards. I hope we're not walking into a trap,"

"Hmm, it never occurred to me this might be a trap," I admitted, "Do you think we can trust the guy?"

"Which one?"

"The one who sent us here. I didn't catch his name,"

"I don't know either," Altair admitted, before adding "His name or if we can trust him," before I asked.

"He kinda owes us, though," I pointed out, "That's got to count for something, right?"

"Perhaps, but loyalty can be tricky. There's no guarantee he isn't just handing us over to the Templars,"

"Isn't the informant supposed to be an Assassin?"

"Haven't you ever heard of double agents?"

"In spy movies yes, not so much with ancient assassins...not that I'm exactly up to scratch with my history of ancient secret organisations,"

"Al Mualim seems to have been successful at building a trustworthy Brotherhood, but there's a chance he could have overlooked a spy."

"Especially if he is one himself," I interjected.

Altair didn't reply, which I took as an agreement.

"So should we go over there?" I asked, struggling to see anything but blurred shapes from behind the running water.

"We don't really have any other options. It's our best lead for information. I suppose we have to go," he reasoned.

I couldn't think of a counter-argument. "Ok then, but keep your blade at the ready. I'd hate to die on a Tuesday,"

"How do you know it's Tuesday?"

"My watch tells the day of the week as well as time," I showed him the stripy rainbow explosion which was my watch proudly, "It also says it's 1:30 in the afternoon,"

Altair stared at the modern contraption curiously, "That must be useful," he commented carefully. I wondered how familiar he was with clock-work technology, or if it even existed here yet. This whole trip was really exposing the flaws in my historical education. As well as how brilliantly the design team must've been.

The assassin tore his eyes from my watch and back to the blurred figures by the daisies, flicking out his hidden blade testingly. Without a word, he moved seamlessly through the crowd. I scrambled after him, taking care to keep a five-pace distance just in case a fight started or I caused trouble, which was becoming less a question of "if" and more a question of "when".

* * *

I didn't like the way the burly guard no. 1 was eyeing me. And 'burly' was an understatement. This guy looked like he had stepped off the stage at the body-building championships. He had way too many muscles in his bulging forearms to be normal. It was like he had killed a guy and had those arm muscles transplanted into his own arm, to have double the amount of muscles.

This was of course a ridiculous explanation. He probably just willed his arms to grow that way.

And burly guard no. 2 wasn't any different.

But of course, there's the saying about how only men with small penises drive huge SUVs. The same could be said for the man behind the guards. Or should I say, boy.

In fact, I _should_ say boy, because he was indeed a boy. With a mop of messy brown hair, oversized Assassin's robes, and a fierce spark of determination and hope in his eyes, yet untouched by the sarcasm and cynicism of teenagery, he looked no more than 10 years old.

"_This_ is the most informed person this side of the Red Sea?" I asked in disbelief.

The boy sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, "You got a problem with that, girlie?" his high-pitched voice squeaked.

"Not really, aside from the fact I've got clothes older than you," I replied. We were in my territory now; I knew how to deal with kids like this.

"Wow, you must be really old," he shot back.

Oh, he's good. "...your mum's old," I sulked. I would have to rethink my tactics with this one.

Finally, Altair spoke up. "Enough. You, kid, what's your name?"

"Who wants to know? I ain't saying anything to some punk and his maid."

Maid? This kid was really asking for it. "Don't you know how he is? Do the robes mean nothing to you?" I demanded irritably.

"So? Anyone can get assassin robes. That don't mean nothing." He scoffed.

It was bad enough he was rude, but to then abuse basic grammar so flippantly? I was beginning to really lose my patience.

Luckily Altair wasn't as easily provoked. He calmly got out the wax seal we had been given by the informant and handed it to guard no. 1, who in turn handed it to the boy. "I was told you could give us information."

The boy appeared to examine the seal for a moment, "Where did you get this?"

"One of your associates. Do you have information or not?" Altair asked sternly.

"I suppose that's good enough. I only gave these to Tobias and he's not quite stupid enough to gamble them away or drop them," he sighed acceptingly, "Fine. My name is Alec. My mother was a concubine for the Templars, Robert in particular. She managed to keep me a secret for years, but when they eventually found out, my mother was killed and I went into the care of the other mistresses. They sent me to the Brotherhood several years ago, for safety, and Al Mualim himself stationed me here in Jerusalem. Since then there's nothing that's been able to pass through the city without my knowledge. So yes, in answer to your question, I _do_ have information."

Wow, way to tell your life story. So much for secrecy. "So we're getting help from Robert's bastard. Wow, I _so_ feel like we can trust you," I remarked with my usual sarcasm.

Alec grimaced, "Robert may be my father, but I have no loyalty to him. He killed my mother and would do the same to me if he could. I will help you if it means his downfall,"

Altair seemed to accept this excuse, "Then it seems we have the same goal. What do you know about the Templars presence here in Jerusalem?"

"Well, they're here to participate in the funeral," Alec replied, but upon seeing Altair's expression, added "But I'm sure you already know that,"

"Indeed," he replied sternly.

One of the burly guards shuffled warningly. Clearly they took their job seriously.

"They say Robert is doing this because he wants peace," Alec continued, "Of course, that's bullshit. It's just a ploy to fool the people and wealthy nobles into a false sense of security and to hide what he's really planning,"

"You know, these are all things we could have easily worked out ourselves, and not entirely useful. Do you have any real information or what?" I asked impatiently.

"Could you have worked _this_ out yourself?" Alec demanded as he held out a folded piece of parchment.

"What is it?" Altair asked.

"It's a map of where all the guards will be situated at the ceremony," he explained.

"Now that _is_ useful," I remarked.

I reached to take it, but he pulled it out of my grasp, "Not so fast, information isn't free; this isn't Jericho."

I narrowed my eyes, "Look kid, this information is going to help us kill your dear old dad. Don't you want revenge for your mother's death?"

"I do. But it's still going to cost you," he replied stubbornly.

Altair stepped in, "How about in exchange for the information, I _don't_ litter this corner with the bodies of you and your henchmen?"

The boy laughed, "You must think I'm stupid. Do you honestly think you stand a chance against Herod and Jerod?"

The guard on the right tensed his monstrous biceps as if to demonstrate.

"And besides, you're part of the Brotherhood, are you not? You wouldn't attack your fellow assassin."

It was my turn to laugh, "You should see what he did to his best friend."

"...thanks," Altair muttered darkly.

"You're welcome," I muttered back before adding aloud, "I'd think twice before trying to extort this guy,"

"But you don't even know what I want," Alec retaliated.

I sighed, "Alright then, I'll play along; what do you want?"

"Show us your boobs," he said simply.

"...what?"

"You heard me, show us your chest," he replied.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "Just five minutes ago you were calling me old!"

"So? Maybe I like mature ladies,"

"I'm not mature, I'm bloody 18. And no, I'm not going to expose myself to a child; this is ridiculous!" I crossed my arms defensively. The nerve of this kid.

"Do you want the information or not?" Alec asked, waving the folded note in front of my face like it was supposed to persuade me.

I looked to the silent assassin at my side, "Altair, help me out here."

"Well, it's not like he's asking for much..." he began.

"Altair!"

"But no, you're right. This is stupid," he said quickly, "Look kid, just give me the note, and we'll be on our way. You don't want to see what she's got; it's not very impressive anyway,"

I could feel my face burning, mostly from anger I decided. "I'm _so_ not going to forget this," I muttered under my breath.

"Shut up, it's working," he replied quietly.

Alec looked studied me carefully, "Wearing enhancers is she? Dammit, I hate those things. You can never tell the real ones anymore. Such a tease."

I was incredibly tempted to slap him, but instead bit my tongue. I could teach him a lesson _after_ we got the map.

"Yes, so there's no point, is there? Might as well just give us the map and be done with it," Altair negotiated.

Alec sighed, "Fine. Just take it and go." He held out the map, and this time didn't remove it when I tried to take it.

"Can I at least feel them?"

"No!" I said sternly, tucking the map away into one of my many pockets. I looked back to Altair, "We going now?"

"Sure," he replied, turning back to Alec, "Nice doing business with you."

The kid waved it off, "Whatever. Bring a bustier maid next time."

You know that moment where the final straw hits and the camel goes down? As much as I'd never liked that metaphor, that was essentially what happened at that moment. I leaped forward and punched the miniature assassin square in his nose, knocking him to the floor.

"I'll have you know these are C-cups, bitch," I yelled at his squirming figure.

One burly bodyguard dropped down to his aid while the other stepped forward, prepared to take vengeance. Luckily, I had a bodyguard of my own.

Altair jumped in front of me and blocked the guard as he attempted to grab me.

"Run!" he yelled and we bolted from the scene.

* * *

And so there we were, once again dodging startled pedestrians and running for our lives.

"You just couldn't let it go, could you?" Altair remarked as he jumped out of the path of a jug carrier.

"That kid was a brat! He needed to be taught a lesson," I replied defensively.  
"He gave us information, he was an ally. It doesn't matter how rude or obnoxious he was," the assassin lectured.

"Oh, so it's ok to kill innocent interrogation suspects, but not ok to break the nose of the womanising ten year-old?" I've always hated double standards.

"Yes. And exactly, he was a child; he didn't know any better."

"If he's old enough to say shit like that, he's old enough to suffer the consequences," I retorted.

Altair turned sharply and pulled himself up a ladder to the rooftops.

"Well let's just hope we never need to deal with him again," Altair remarked as I joined him on the roof, "because you've undoubtedly burned that bridge."

I rolled my eyes and pulled the guard-location map out of my pocket, "Whatever. We've got the map. Let's just take a look at this."

I unfolded the parchment and held out the map between us.

"...this looks like it was drawn by a child," I remarked, unimpressed by the squiggly mess that was supposed to be the Rich District.

"Well that's what we get for dealing with one," Altair sighed, "I should've known that informant would still be useless."

"So all that was a waste of time?"

Altair took the map from me and examined it closely, "Not completely. I think these red dots are supposed to represent the placement of the guards. And if you squint, you can see that oblong is supposed to be the church. I think we can work with this," he folded the parchment back up and put it away before adding, "But it'll be easier if we compare it to the mini map and add the markers on there."

I froze. Why does the damn mini map have to continue to haunt me? "The Mini map eh? Yes, it really is a much better map. Much clearer than the one Alec gave us. Who exactly drew the mini map? Or the map it's based off, unless it was just some graphic designer – " I rambled.

"...Malik makes all the maps, so I suppose he might be responsible for the mini map...where is this going?"

"Nothing. How about we get back to the informant? He said he might have more information for us by now," I replied, smoothly changing the subject.

"...what about putting the markers on the mini map?" Altair asked, as sharp as a German Shepherd.

"I'll do it on the way," I dismissed.

Altair stared at me for a moment. I prayed to whatever God that was listening that he would just accept it and move on.

"Fine," He said finally, "But you might need this," he took the crudely-drawn map out and gave it back to me.

I smiled nervously as I put it away in the pocket with the broken GPS. It was getting harder and harder to keep lying like this. He was bound to find out eventually, there was no doubt about that. I just prayed that by then I'd be able to think up a good enough reason for why I didn't just tell him earlier. '_Because I didn't want to disappoint you'_ was seeming like less and less of a plausible excuse.

* * *

_**And there ends another chapter. But fear not, Chapter 22 is already about 50% completed, and should be out earlyish next week. **_

**_And to those of you who may argue that a 10 yr old boy wouldn't make those sorts of requests, just because he looks 10, doesn't mean he is. He could be suffering from Justin Bieber syndrome and actually be 15 for all we know. Ah, the mysteries of the universe._**

_**A big thank you all my readers and reviewers. You guys are wonderful and my biggest motivation to keep going. Especially those of you who took the time to send me notes in the down time, checking to make sure I hadn't just abandoned this story. The fact you care that much is really touching :D And yes, I'm determined to finish this. I really don't like to leave things unfinished, so no matter how long it takes, I *will* complete this fic. Hopefully before the end of the year. I have most of it planned out so it's just a matter of writing it down. **_

_**So yeah, any and all feedback is more than welcome. **_

_**And thanks for reading :D I hope you enjoyed it. **_


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/n: **__**Here it is, chapter 22, wherein questions are asked, witty observations are made, and Altair is grumpy...so, same as usual really. **_

_**Sorry for the delay. I know I've complained about internet troubles in the past, but none of that compares to what's happened this time. The entire wireless modem for my house has just gone and died. Completely dead. I only managed to upload this thanks to stealing my dad's work internet USB thing. But what this means is that I won't be able to upload anything further until I get back to Uni, and by then I'll have work to do. So this could be the last chapter for a little bit. Sorry guys. My winter holidays really aren't long enough. **_

* * *

Chapter 22

"I'm getting pretty sick of your lies," Altair announced in a dark voice as he stood menacingly over the cowering informant.

"Lies? What lies? When have I lied?" The informant said quickly, wincing under the assassins' stern gaze.

"I guess they weren't so much lies as half-truths," I interjected from the sidelines, "But we're still not happy."

"W-what happened this time?" the man spluttered, as if he were afraid of the answer.

"You sent us to a child, that's what happened," Altair replied angrily.

"...so? Did he not have useful information?" he asked in a small voice.

"Yes, he had information, but you should've told us that he was just a kid," I said, "and a rude one at that."

"I'm sorry," the informant apologised pathetically, "I didn't think it was important."

Altair took a step closer, "Well from now on, you tell us _everything_. Every detail, I don't care how small and seemingly useless it is; I want to know it."

"Yes, of course," he agreed, "Anything you say."

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other," Altair said, stepping back, "And now, what is this final piece of information, that you apparently have, that you dragged us all the way back here for?"

The informant took a moment to get to his feet and recover from what must've been a terrifying ordeal, "Ok, I have one last thing for you. My last contact was indeed fruitful."

"Alright then, what is it?" I asked as I took my place next to Altair, waiting expectantly.

"Robert's men are different to your ordinary Templars. They're highly skilled and heavily armed. They've been trained specifically for this purpose, under his own hand. You will have your work cut out for you getting to him," the informant revealed.

Several minutes ticked by, which I noticed thanks to the unusually loud ticking noise of my Swatch Watch, and a nervous silence fell as the informant awaited judgement.

Finally, Altair sighed, "I suppose that is somewhat useful."

The informant released the breath of air he had been unwittingly holding, visibly relieved.

"But I'm not entirely sure that was worth all this running back and forth," Altair added and turned to me, "What do think?"

Surprised that he was actually asking my opinion on something, I wasn't sure how to proceed, "Um, on the one hand, we probably could've guessed that going after someone as high up in the Templars as Robert was bound to be harder than the other targets, but on the other hand, I didn't think that he might have _specialised_ guards. I guess it's useful. We'll be able to incorporate that information into our strategy."

Altair nodded, "Looks like it's your lucky day," he said to the informant.

The man looked overjoyed, but quickly changed his expression, "I'm glad you approve, but, I'm afraid I must ask just one more thing of you."

"Ever heard of quitting while you're ahead?" I asked in disbelief.

"I know that after everything, I have no right to make any more requests, but this one last tiny thing, it's really important," he continued, practically begging at the assassin's feet.

Altair sighed, "What is it?"

"I need to leave Jerusalem and catch up with my family, but with the funeral so close, all the exits are being closely monitored for anyone associated with the assassins. I fear I will not make it out on my own," he explained.

"Let me guess, you want us to escort you safely out of the city?" I suggested. I was beginning to see why the game critics called this place repetitive.

"Well, yes," he admitted, "but I was hoping for a slightly different approach."

The promise of something new seemed to catch Altair's interest, "What kind of approach?"

* * *

The view from the roof of the building was magnificent. The sprawling city stretched out into the distance in all directions. It wasn't of course anything compared to the view from the tower on the church, but judging from the noising streaming from the window behind us, it served a similar purpose.

Before us stood the East gate. Twelve bored-looking archers paced back and forth on their respective rooftops. The crowd milling below us were probably oblivious to deadly bowmen. They had no idea that at any moment, a torrent of arrows could easily rain from the sky and massacre them all. Ah, to be blissfully ignorant.

"So we're to take out these archers and clear the path for our informant friend?" I reiterated, for no real purpose considering we were both well aware of the plan.

"Yes, but I would hardly call him a friend. More of an annoyance," Altair replied.

"And he couldn't have picked a less guarded exit why?"

"This _is_ the least heavily guarded exit. There's no wall of guards standing either side of the gate, just these twelve archers. It's our best bet."

"You mean _his_ best bet," I corrected.

"Yes, but as he also explained, the more guards we take out now, the less people we'll have to worry about when running back to the Bureau after we kill Robert. This helps us too,"

"Ok, I get that, but why are we helping this guy again? It's not like we're even likely to be paid in useful information,"

"Seriously?" he looked at me in disbelief, "_You_ were the one who begged for us to help him."

"...oh yeah, so I did," I suddenly remembered. There goes that short term memory again.

"You're definitely too soft to be an assassin," he rolled his eyes.

I shrugged, "Good thing it's not my life's ambition."

A satisfied moan wailed out from the slatted window behind us.

"Really, how many whore-houses do they want in Jerusalem? Seriously!" I exclaimed.

"It's the rich district; a whole bunch of wealthy individuals with plenty of time on their hands," Altair explained, "Whoring is one of the biggest industries around here."

"Ah, the self-indulgent upper class. Bourgeoisie. If only we could all afford to live in such decadence," I mused.

"Don't forget about all the diseases," Altair reminded me, "The medical industry is probably the second largest."

"And when all they've got to work with is a bunch of leeches and tea leaves. Amazing,"

Altair shushed me and focused intently on the crowd below. After a few moments, I saw what he had spotted; the informant, standing at the corner, waiting for our signal.

"I suppose now is the time to go?" I suggested.

Altair jumped onto the next roof, "Follow my lead."

By the time I reached the first armed rooftop, the attack was over. Altair had leapt from the shadows and stabbed the archer square in the chest; an instant kill.

One down, eleven to go.

We jumped up to the next roof with the same level of stealth. Just as the archer finished his pointless observation from our direction and turned his back, Altair jumped up from hanging from the edge and pounced on the man, pushing him off other side. When I didn't hear the typical gasps and screams of the townspeople, I looked down at the place where he had fallen. By pure luck, he had fallen into a private balcony. Still dead, but out of the way of the public and their attention-bringing screams.

"That was lucky," I remarked.

"Luck? It's called skill," Altair scoffed.

"Oh, so you were aiming for the balcony all along?"

"Balcony? What balcony?" He walked over to the edge and saw the body, "Nice -I mean, ah, just as I planned."

I rolled my eyes (they were getting quite the work-out in this adventure), "Sure it was."

"Well, next time, why don't you try helping instead of standing there and criticising me?" he countered.

"Are you sure I wouldn't get in the way?" I asked.

"No more than you are already," he replied, "Come on."

The next rooftop had a large tower type thing in the middle. The pacing archer disappeared behind it and Altair signalled me to follow. I pulled myself onto the roof and ran around the corner, just as he was walking around the next one.

"Hey there!" I called sweetly.

The man spun around instantly, swiftly pulling out an arrow and arming his bow. "Who are you?" He demanded, "No one is allowed up here!"

"Me? Oh, I'm just a simple housewife. Nothing special really. As for what I'm doing here, well, that's a funny story," I rambled, watching Altair creep up onto the roof and silently move behind the tower, "I was making dinner for my husband, and so I went to the fridge to get some meat, but oh no, I couldn't find any! I knew my husband would be angry if he didn't have any meat for his dinner, so I decided to go to the market and buy some."

The archer didn't seem convinced, but he wasn't shooting me either, so I took it as a good sign.

"And anyway, I must have taken a wrong turn, or ten, because the next thing I knew, here I am, up on the roof. Isn't that weird?" I asked.

Just as I finished, Altair leapt from the shadows and grabbed the archer from behind, stabbing him in the back. The assassin set him down gently, wiping off the hidden blade.

"About time. I wasn't sure how much longer I could stretch that story," I remarked, not as easily impressed by Altair's assassin skills having seem him use them so many times by this point.

"You got lost at trying to buy meat at the market?" He reiterated.

"Yeah, so what? It's a legitimate story," I defended.

"Sure. And by the way, we don't have fridges here, whatever they are."

"...Well I can hardly be expected to remember historical accuracy when I'm improvising. You didn't exactly give me time to prepare."

"I'd suggest you don't set your hopes on acting either."

"Oh, you're so funny," I replied sarcastically, "You could do stand-up. Really,"

"What does standing up have to do with being funny?"

"...let's just continue,"

"Right. I'll jump to the other side of the street and take down the archers over there, while you keep going this way and take care of these ones." Altair instructed.

"...wait, you want me to assassinate archers? On my own?"

"Why not?" Altair shrugged, "You've managed to kill before,"

"That was a fluke. And it only happened once. You might not have noticed, because you were doing all the work!"

"Well, now's a good time to start learning. And what better way to learn than to throw you straight into the deep end?"

"Is that how you learned to swim?" I asked, "No wonder you're terrified,"

"...shut up,"

"I really don't think I'm ready for this,"

"Sure you are. Just remember, the trick is to jump them while their backs are turned. And get in close. Archers are typically useless at the hand-to-hand stuff. And they're high up, so all you have to do is push off the edge and let gravity do all the work for you,"

I glanced down at the distant ground, "And what's to stop me from meeting the same end?"

"Just don't get too close to the edge," he replied, before leaping off the building and landing on a hanging platform, propelling himself to the other side.

"Easier said than done," I muttered after him.

With few other reasonable options, I carefully walked across the thin wall which connected this and the next armed rooftop, and crouched below the edge. Hesitantly, I looked up, hoping to god that my timing wasn't off. The guard turned and began walking in my direction. I shot my head down and braced myself for the voice of discovery. Moments passed, and while the footsteps came closer and paused, after a few seconds, they went away again. I looked up to find him walking away.

It was my best chance. Silently, I climbed up onto the roof and padded across the stone rooftop. The guard had stopped at a corner, looking out.

"Sorry," I whispered, before shoving him off the edge. He let out a surprised gasp as he fell, until he met his end, heavily on the ground. I skipped back from the edge, horrified that it had been so easy, so simple, to just end the man's life. I felt guilty.

I thought back to all the times when I was playing as Altair, when I would try to do that on purpose, thinking how cool it looked to kill someone like that. I was disgusted with myself.

I glanced across the street. The crumpled body of Altair's first victim lay lifeless on the rooftop, while the assassin leapt to the next building, a deadly white flash, not unlike lightening or some sort of internal parasite, jumping to his next victim.

I took a deep breath. These archers needed to die. Not just for the mission, and not just because they were working for the Templars. But because it was that classic "Kill them before they kill you" situation. I'd been shot down - or rather, Altair had been shot down- enough times for me to know that much. If I didn't take them down first, I'd end up with a chest full of arrows. And not the fun kind that you might get drawn on you in fluro marker at an Arrow-themed club for cheap booze at happy hour. No, the pointy kind.

"I hate pointy things," I sighed, before leaving the scene of my latest crime and jumping the one metre gap to the next short roof.

With few other techniques in my repertoire and no confidence in my ability to wield any of my weapons without backup, I waited for the latest archer so finish his pacing cycle and turn back to the other side. I hopped up to the rooftop and ran at the tall man. Unfortunately, I didn't see the elevated hatch right in the middle of the roof, and could do nothing but swear when my foot failed to pass through the solid mass, causing me to fall. I landed heavily on the stone rooftop, startling my target, who spun around too fast and lost his own balance. I could only watch as he stumbled backwards until the roof ran out and he fell.

Well, it seems I truly am the master of the fluke. But how much longer until my luck runs out?

I got back up to my feet, feeling a little more bruised than before, and walked to see where he landed. I didn't have to walk far.

The archer had never reached the ground, thanks to the large, sharp and pointy spire sticking out of the strangely placed pyramid roof of the single-story house below. The impaled man writhed for a few moments, clearly as surprised as I was (although probably for a different reason) before the convulsions stopped.

I didn't even jump when a set of feet landed on the roof next to me.

"Nice work," Altair complimented, "How did you managed to get him on there? Would've been a hard shot."

"I-I didn't _try_ to do that, it just happened," I replied, my voice cracking unexpectedly.

"Hey, don't get upset. This is a good thing. Eight of the archers are dead. That's more than half of our targets. We're over halfway, and the informant is still passing the last of the merchant stands at the start."

"but...just look at him!"

"...what about him?"

"I killed him. And the blood, oh god!"

"This isn't your first kill; I thought you were over this,"

"How can I get over taking people's lives?"

Altair took my hand, "Look at him,"

"No, I don't want to anymore,"

"Really, just look at him,"

I hesitantly obeyed, "Ok, I'm looking at him. Now what?"

"Who does he look like?"

"...I dunno. What sort of question is that? Are you saying I'm racist? I know not all Middle Eastern people look the same!"

He shook his head, "No, the correct answer was 'he looks like the last guy, and the guy before that'. All these archers _do_ look the same, because they _are_ the same."

"...so? Maybe they're twins, or something. Or whatever the word is for twelve babies born at the same time,"

"I don't think that's physically possible. And they're not 'twins' or related in anyway. They're clones. Respawnable, expendable, identical NPC's. A dime a dozen. They're not people. They don't have lives, or families, or even personalities. They're just pixels, remember?"

"...well, they make very convincing humans,"

"That's the point. It makes for more immersive gameplay."

I laughed at the word Immersive, "Somehow I don't think _this_ was exactly what the developers had in mind,"

"Probably not," he agreed.

"But if they're just expendable NPC's with no personalities, what about you? I think it's pretty obvious now you _do_ have a personality. And attitude. And sentience. What makes you so special?"

Altair shrugged, "I'm the playable character. And the star of this show."

"And what about Malik? Or is he just pixels too?"

"No, I'm fairly sure pixels couldn't insult me so creatively. I dunno, maybe it has something to do with the fact that there are only one of each of us. And we have names. These guards are more like programmed robots. It's just different."

I suppose I had to agree. "So I shouldn't feel bad when I kill them?"

"Only if you feel bad when you break a window or step on ants."

"..."

"...seriously?"

"I don't like breaking things...and ants have feelings too. Maybe. They're too small for me to ask them, but I'm sure they do."

Altair sighed, "Why were you even playing this game to begin with, since you seem so opposed to violence?"

"...I like the story...and I thought you were cute," I admitted, refusing to look at him or acknowledge the blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Oh yeah? And what do you think of me now?"

"I think...that you're a stubborn arsehole who needs to learn to stop asking me questions," I replied defectively. There's no way I'm telling him that I've been secretly perving at him this whole time. It'll be a cold day in hell before that happens. And the forecast calls for a heatwave.

"Well maybe-"

Whatever awkward place the conversation might have gone to next was thankfully interrupted by an arrow as it wizzed between us, ricocheting off the stone roof and out of sight. Another just missed my head as I ducked instinctively. We had been spotted.

Altair grabbed my hand and pulled me off the rooftop and into a ruined room in between the two buildings. We flattened ourselves against the wall and waited for the rain of arrows to stop.

They did.

"Shit, I forgot they did that," I panted from the unexpected running.

"Wait here," Altair instructed, before disappearing up the wall and onto the roof.

There were sounds of a brief struggle, and a sickening thud, before Altair's head popped back into view, "You can come up now. And try not to draw attention to yourself again. These people are most dangerous from a distance."

I clambered onto the roof and took note of the remaining archers.

"Only three left. Thank God," I sighed wearily, before spotting the discarded bow and arrow quiver at my feet, "Did he drop this?"

"I decided it was safer to disarm this one before I stabbed him. He actually knew how to use the bow as a melee weapon," Altair replied, rubbing his shoulder where he was assumedly struck.

I picked up the long bow, "I've always wanted to try archery."

"And you think _now_ is a good time to learn?" he questioned.

I shrugged, "When else am I going to get the chance?"

Altair scanned the crowd, "The informant is still far behind. I suppose I could humour you for a few minutes before you shoot yourself in the foot."

I overlooked his direct attack at my competency and beamed, "Great. So, Master Assassin, what do I do?"

Altair picked up the mostly full quiver and handed it to me, "First, you'll need to get an arrow out."

I shouldered the quiver and pulled out one of the black arrows.

"I assume you can tell the pointy end from the feathered end," he remarked. I glared.

"And once that's established, you need to sit the feathered end on the string, and rest the shaft along the top of the handgrip of the bow. Remember, hold bow away from you. And don't point the arrow at anyone you're not trying to shoot," he added, stepping out the way quickly.

"If you keep moving like that Altair, how am I supposed to shoot you?" I complained.

The assassin rolled his eyes and continued, "All you have to do now is hold the arrow in-place on the string between your index and middle fingers and then pull it back. Then you just aim and release. Easy."

I tried to do as instructed holding the arrow in place and pulling string back.

"Hold your arm out straight and lift the bow up higher. You want the end of the arrow resting just next to your cheek," He lifted my arm for me and adjusted my wrist position, "And when you release the string, move your fingers out the way quickly. I've seen men loose them for being too slow."

I held the position carefully for a few moments, before asking, "Ok, now what?"

"Now you aim for your target," He replied simply.

"...and what is my target?"

"I dunno. But don't pick something that the arrow will bounce off of. And nothing too close. Why not that wooden post on that roof over there?" He pointed to the seemingly randomly placed wooden pole, not unlike the ones I used to make Altair climb up and jump off of when I was bored.

I pulled back the string tightly, taking aim. Mentally counting to three, I released the string. The arrow shot out brilliantly, before losing trajectory and disappearing off the side of the roof. Not even close to the target. Distant screams of the townspeople below echoed up.

I turned to the assassin, "What did I do wrong?"

Altair shrugged, "Maybe you were aiming too low. Or didn't pull the string back enough. I dunno. I wasn't really trained in archery. You'd be better off asking Malik for this. He was always the best archer, you know, before his injuries."

"...why didn't you tell me that before?"

"You seemed so keen. I didn't want to disappoint you," He replied with mock enthusiasm.

I narrowed my eyes, "There's no need to patronise me."

"But you make it so easy!"

I wacked him on the shoulder with the bow.

"Ow, hey, I've already got one bruise there," he rubbed his shoulder again.

"And you'll get more if you don't shut your mouth," I muttered, "Stupid assassin."

"Look, why don't you just ask Malik to help you when we get back?"

"Do you think he'd teach me?"

The assassin shrugged, "Maybe. I mean, he can't exactly fire a bow himself anymore; it could bring back painful memories. But it's worth a shot."

"And your presence _doesn't_ bring him back painful memories?"

"...touché. Maybe he'll be able to at least give you some tips, although it's not like he'll be able to demonstrate anything,"

"Maybe you two could work together," I suggested, "He could give the instructions, and you demonstrate what he's talking about. You know; teamwork."

Altair laughed, "Considering what happened the last time we worked in a team, I don't think he'll be that eager."

"Might as well try, though, right?" I asked, stringing another arrow on the bow and taking aim.

"Such an optimist, aren't you?"

"Yep," I released the string. This time, the arrow flew further. But rather than hitting my target (the wooden post), it bounced off a wall, onto another wall, and another, before it landed in someone's chest. Luckily, that chest happened to belong to one of the three remaining archers.

"You really are the Queen of Lucky Shots, aren't you?" Altair remarked.

"Luck? What are you talking about? That's all skill," I scoffed, repeating his early claims mockingly.

"Sure it was," Altair replied, glancing back down at the progressing informant, "He's almost caught up. Might as well take care of the last two archers now."

"Can I use my bow?" I asked.

Altair didn't reply and coughed awkwardly.

"Come on! I promise not to shoot anyone with it."

"...I'm not going to even begin explaining how stupid that sounded."

"I'll just hit people with it. Or let you stab them. And then I'll stand there next to you looking badass with my new bow," I suggested.

Altair shook his head, "Fine, I give up. Just don't get yourself killed," and jumped off the rooftop to the next one.

I secured the quiver over my shoulder and followed.

Altair had already killed the second-to-last archer when I arrived, lowing his lifeless corpse to the ground.

"You know, you're so much faster now than you were when I was controlling you," I remarked, panting from the running and leaning on my new bow for support.

"I should hope so," Altair replied, "You spent too much time stuffing around. The timed assassination missions aren't hard if you go straight to each target and move away quickly."

"What did you think I was trying to do? Not my fault the game controls were clumsy!"

"Whatever you say. Only a shoddy craftsman blames his tools."

"For someone who doesn't like to waste time, you seem to waste a lot of it arguing with me," I pointed out, as the informant, who has caught up quite speedily, was noticed by the remaining archer. The enemy bowman pulled out an arrow and took aim, waiting for the opportune moment.

Altair swore and sped off the roof, jumping the two metre gap and pulling himself onto the final and, unironically enough, the tallest of the roof tops in this line of buildings.

Unlike the last time, the archer was still alive and kicking by the time I caught up. It was as if the difficulty curve had increased with the altitude. The archer, putting up the biggest fight of his brethren, was attempting to strangle Altair with his bow as the assassin held his short blade against his neck. They were stuck in a stalemate.

Without much time to think of a plan, I ran forward and wacked the archer in the back of the knees with my bow. He buckled and Altair took the opportunity to flick out his hidden blade as they fell, stabbing the templar archer in the chest.

The assassin rolled off the freshly dead corpse, freeing his neck from the bow and sheathing his blades.

"I guess the bow _is_ useful," He remarked, wincing as he rubbed his neck from where the enemy bowstring had attempted to cut off his air supply. A large red line marked the spot.

"You're getting a lot of injuries today, aren't you?" I remarked.

Altair shrugged, "I suppose. It's a dangerous job."

"Yeah, but still, it's like this place is getting more realistic by the minute,"

"How was it not realistic before?"

"Well, for one, if you fell off a five-story building in my world, you wouldn't get taken back to the last save point by the Animus. You'd just be a stain on the sidewalk. And dead."

Altair eyed the distant ground with newfound trepidation. "In that case, let's hope it doesn't get _too_ realistic."

"Yeah, because there's already plenty of other things to worry about with all the people trying to kill you." I added.

"Yes, thank you for that. I had forgotten," he replied sarcastically.

Suddenly, I noticed something more concerning. "Hey, isn't that the informant over there?" I asked, pointing down below.

"Where?"

"Running out the unguarded gate."

"That bastard, he's just leaving," Altair quickly hopped down to the smaller roof on the other side and across the gap to the scaffolding next to the gate.

I was done with jumping by that point, and so instead quickly descended down the ladder to the street, running out the gate after the run-away as Altair jumped across the wooden beams overhead and onto the ground in front of me.

He tackled the running informant spectacularly, in a feat worthy of Australian Rules Football League. "Going somewhere?" He grunted.

"Oh, Altair! Here you are. I was just looking for you!" The informant lied, faking a smile.

The assassin got up, keeping a firm hold on the man's shoulder to stop him attempting to run again, "No information then? I thought we had a deal."

"And not even a thanks? Talk about ungrateful," I added.

"No, it's not that, I just- Sorry. I was going to wait for you, but I panicked." He replied lamely.

Altair sighed wearily, "Look, if you don't have anything for me, just say so. There's not much I can do about it now, although in the future I'll probably be asking for these things in advance."

The informant seemed surprised, but grateful, "Look, I do have a lead, but it's risky."

"What is it?" I asked, "I think we can decide for ourselves if it's worth checking it out."

"Ok fine. Robert de Sable has a mistress here in the city. Elisa. She's being housed in a grand building just outside the palace," he revealed, "Rumour says she has no loyalty to him and will aid any who seek to oppose him, if you can reach her."

"Will she make ridiculous demands like his illegitimate son?" I asked.

The informant shook his head, "No. Robert is not kind to his concubines. I believe she will help on only the promise of his immediate downfall."

I glanced at Altair, "Do you think it's worth checking out?"

The assassin stroked his not-so-metaphorical beared thoughtfully, "She could prove useful. And there's no such thing as too much information, especially when the intelligence we already have is sparse."

The informant looked hopeful, "So this is a good exchange then?"

"Yes, I suppose it is. If you can tell us exactly where we can find this Elise,"

"Do you have a map? I could mark it there,"

I began to feel that sinking feeling I only get when something bad is about to happen.

"Sure," Altair turned to me, "The mini-map?"

There was no way to dodge it this time. "Um, about that..."

"What?"

"...I-I lied before. It's still broken from the river," I revealed finally. It was as if a huge weight was lifted from my chest. I felt so relieved...until I saw his expression.  
"You mean you've been lying to me all this time? It's broken?" Altair looked like a mix of outrage and betrayal.

"...yeah," I avoided his gaze.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"...I thought you'd be mad...sorry."

"You only broke one of my most important pieces of equipment, why would you think I'd be mad?" he asked sarcastically.

"I said I'm sorry."

"You're lucky I have this city memorised," he went on.

"I know. And I'm grateful. Really, sorry. I'll try to fix it later. I was going to, I just- we were always running around, I had no time." I tried to explain.

Altair pinched the bridge of his nose, probably using some sort of anger-management technique of counting backwards or something. "We'll talk about this later," he turned to the informant, "Which building is Elise in? What does it look like?"

"It's four stories high, and covered in pale blue tiles with mosaics running up the front and back walls. It's actually fairly recognisable," he explained.

Altair nodded, "What room?"

"The third window from the left on the top floor, if you approach from the south side,"

"Good. At least we don't need to put _that_ on the mini-map,"

I felt a pang of guilt again. "Sorry," I muttered again.

Altair continued, letting the man go, "I guess that's all we need."

"Oh good," The informant look relieved, while I, on the other hand, was sinking in guilt; a complete role reversal. I had to fix it somehow.

I took and deep breath and put on a fake smile, "Alright then, it seems you finally delivered, Informant."

"My name's Tobias," he corrected.

"Really? Interesting." I had been wondering if he had a real name.

"...yeah." he said, to fill that awkward silence that only falls when you've known someone for a while and admit that you don't know their name.

"...well, now that we finally know that, farewell Tobias. I hope you find your wife and kids," I continued.

He looked confused, "Who?"

"...your family? The people you made us escort out of the city this morning?" I reminded him.

"Oh right, them...yeah, I was going to go to Damascus for a week or so before catching up to them. Seven kids are a handful,"

"Lovely," I replied, unimpressed.

"Well, thanks again Altair and girl. I shall never forget all you have done for me," Tobias waved as he stepped up into the saddle of a chestnut mare with white socks and rode off into the distance.

"...he was a strange man," I remarked.  
"Indeed," Altair agreed.

* * *

The sky was painted pink and orange as the sun set in glorious fashion. The there were few better places to observe this masterpiece than the tiled church roof of one of the few non-brothel churches in Jerusalem.

"That's really quite breath-taking," I observed.

"Yeah, I haven't seen one of these in a while," the assassin remarked.

"Really? How come?"

"Ah, it might have something to do with the fact that the sun doesn't set in the game."

"...shit, you're right," I remembered, "But how can it be happening now? The game isn't over. You don't think it's another one of the glitches, do you?"

"I think it might be."

"...so time's actually passing here, like in a real world?"

"Certainly looks like it."

"...is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I'm not sure," Altair admitted, "I haven't had to worry about night-time since before the game."

"...so what do we do now? Go to Elise?"

Altair shook his head, "Where do you think Robert would be at night with one of his mistresses in town?"

"Oh yeah. Ew, wouldn't want to walk in on that," I cringed, "Besides, it would probably be heavily guarded if he's there."

"He'd probably have his whole personal guard posted outside the room. And around the building. It would be too concentrated to get past," he agreed.

"So what then?" I asked again.

"I suppose we should find somewhere to sleep for the night."

"Are there hotels or something here?"

"I don't think so. Not ones that don't come with a complementary whore."

"Yeah, and we don't want those..." I muttered.

"Not at all," he agreed half-heartedly.

"So where then?"

Altair thought for a few moments before replying, "The bureau?"

"Is it really equipped for sleeping?"

"Sure. It has sleeping mats in the back room, remember? And Malik lives there, so it can't be completely unliveable."

"Sounds great, but I think you overlooked one important factor,"

"What?"

"Malik lives there," I reminded him, "Do you really think he'd let us stay with him?"

"...good point."

I looked back out at the fading light of the sunset. "I suppose there's no harm in going there and asking. I mean, what other options do we have?" I asked.

"You're right. And if he says no, we can always try a brothel."

"...you really just want to go to a whore house, don't you?" I accused.

"I'm kidding. If he says no, we'll sleep in one of those roof-top gardens."

"...great, so I have to choose between whores or desert chill?" Talk about spoiled for choice.

"Pretty much."

"...do they at least have male whores?"

"Only at some places,"

"...God I hope Malik says yes." I held my head in my hands, "At least you've forgiven me for breaking and lying to you about the mini-map, right?"

"Not even close,"

"...so-"

"It won't end well for you if we start talking about this now," he warned sharply.

"...ok then. On to the bureau!"

* * *

**_...So yeah, other than my internet troubles delaying this upload, the chapter turned out much bigger than I predicted, and well, it's up to you if you think the wait was worth it or not. Also, I've been busy stuff. But now this chapter is done, and I'm even happier, because I'm getting closer and closer to the other parts that I've been planning for months. Interesting times ahead. _**

**_*AFL. Aussie rules football. It's an interesting game. Not that I'm really into any sport, but it's one of the few I can tolerate live. Look it up. _**

**_So yeah, that's chapter 22. Coming next chapter= Malik; everyone's favourite grouchy one-armed assassin. . Thanks to the people who reviewed last chapter :D I've missed you guys too. _**

**_And remember to leave me feedback or whatever if you have time and/or can be bothered. _**


	23. Chapter 23

**a/n: At long last, a new chaper. Its a miracle, I know. See the bottom for excuses. **

* * *

Chapter 23

The sun had well and truly set by the time we came across the familiar jingling of pots which signified the Bureau. Unsuprisingly, attempting to navigate the sprawling city blind brought back up Altair's frustrations about the Mini-map. All I could do was cower and apologise whenever we ran into yet another dead-end, again. The whole endeavour was physically and emotionally exhausting, and the day had seemed like it had gone on forever. By the time we dropped through the vine-covered lattice roof into the enclosed courtyard, even a simple sleeping rug sounded appealing.

Also unsprisingly, Malik wasn't happy to see us.

"What are you doing here? Have you finished finding all the information you need yet?" he demanded.

"Hi Malik, lovely to see you too," I replied sweetly.

The bureau attendant faltered, "...Hi, it's nice to see you're not dead. But why are you here?"

Altair seemed genuinely at a loss. Clearly he wasn't familiar with this sort of scenario. "No, we haven't finished. But it appears that I failed to make earlier arrangements of where to sleep," he said slowly, "its dark and we have nowhere else to turn."

"...so you want to sleep here?" Malik finished for him.

Altair actually looked sheepish. "Yes."

Malik hesitated. "You've never asked to sleep overnight here before,"

"I never had an apprentice with me before," He countered.

So all this was really on my account? I felt special, yet guilty at the same time. Maybe he _did_ really usually spend his nights with the whores...

"Please Malik, our only other option is a brothel," Altair pleaded, confirming my suspicions somewhat, "And I don't really think that would be wise."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right," Malik eventually agreed, surprisingly, "They may mistake the girl for the newest whore. She'd attract some unwanted attention with that bizarre hair colour."

I twirled my peroxide-blonde hair around my finger subconsciously. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Very well, you and the girl may stay here for tonight," Malik said finally.

Altair nodded, "Thank you, old friend. You kindness shall not be forgotten."

Malik waved it off, "Just do not expect any special treatment. This is a favour for old times' sake and nothing more."

"Of course," Altair nodded, more courteous than I was used to seeing him.

"And now if you excuse me, it seems I shall have to go shopping," the Bureau attendant announced, "I assume you two will want supper as well?"

As if on cue, my stomach growled. "...I may be a little hungry," I admitted sheepishly. That was an understatement. Now that he mentioned it, I was starving. I hadn't eaten anything since those two-minute noodles back in my world. And that seemed like ages ago.

It then occurred to me; would I even be able to eat the food here? I was actually a little surprised they even had food. I'd never seen any in the game before. Pixelated NPCs seemingly don't really need to eat. But assuming this place was becoming more realistic, would it mean I could actually digest whatever dish Malik serves? Or would consuming virtual matter mess with my digestive system? I was intrigued, more than anything.

"No, stay, I'll get what you need from the markets," Altair volunteered. From his expression, Malik seemed as surprised at his generosity as I was.

"Are you sure?"

"It's the least I can do to repay your hospitality," the assassin shrugged.

"Well, if you insist," Malik reached into his robes and pulled out a small piece of paper, "Here's a list of what I need. Just get double of everything on here."

Altair nodded.

Malik handed him a coin pouch, and the assassin-turned-grocery boy disappeared into the mini courtyard and climbed back out into the streets.

I was left standing with the one-armed bureau assistant. Talk about awkward.

I coughed, "...nice weather we're having."

Malik sighed, "Come with me. I'll show you the back rooms."

* * *

Never in a million years would I have predicted that the Bureau would actually be fitted out with all the standard features of a real house. After the sleeping room, which I remembered from before, Malik led me through a door I hadn't noticed before and into a large kitchen/dining room. The set up was simple enough; a stove with wood oven and stone bench space, a large fireplace, and a large-ish wooden table with simple stools in the middle. The room itself was quite spacious, with a small line of windows at the top, mostly for ventilation. It was so convenient; it must have been the work of either some omnipotent deity controlling the glitches, or an incredibly thoughtful game designer.

The biggest surprise had been finding a room down the hall with indoor plumbing. Now I knew that running water wouldn't be invented here for centuries, so the only conclusion I could come up with for its existence was the work of the Animus. The fact that the entire room shimmered in that Animus-way was also a pretty big hint. I wondered if Malik even knew about the bathroom, but I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth and ask about it.

It was the spacious kitchen/dining room that I found myself waiting for Altair to return while Malik placed a pot of water over the fireplace. Assumedly we were having some sort of stew.

"So," I broke the silence awkwardly, "How long have you known Altair?"

"Sixteen years," Malik replied, "Yourself?"

"Ummm," I thought back, "I dunno...3, 4, 5 days maybe?" Game days. Who knows how much time has passed in my own world.  
"...5 days?" Malik questioned sceptically.

"Yeah. Although it seems like much longer," I assured him.

"I see. And how did you meet him?"

I had been hoping he wouldn't ask this question. What the hell do I tell him? "Um, he found me...wandering the desert,"

"And what were you doing in the desert?" Malik asked without skipping a beat. Clearly he's had practice questioning suspects, and now I had drawn attention to myself.

"...I don't know," I admitted weakly.

"How can you not know why you were in the desert?" It was a good question.

"...I have amnesia," I improvised, even though past experience had proven this wasn't a good idea, "I remember very little of my life before the desert. Altair promised to help me find my home when all this is over."

As expected, Malik seemed to have a hard time believing it too, "...Amnesia?"

"Yes."

"And what was all that before about 'mashing buttons'?"*

Shit, he remembered that? I began to panic. I was never good at improvising back in Drama class. Don't know why I thought I'd be any better now, "Ah, I was referring to these kinds of buttons we have back in my country...it's one of the few things I remember..."

"As in buttons on clothes?"

"Yeah," Why hadn't I thought of that? "They're this push-stud kind of button. It's an alternative to the usual 'putting button through hole' kind."

"...Is that some sort of analogy?"

"No!" I blushed, "I was a seamstress,"

"Oh. A seamstress. That makes sense," Malik nodded.

I could've laughed, "...it does?"

"Do you think you could fix something for me?" he asked suddenly.

"...sure," I replied cautiously. Why did I have to say seamstress?

Malik removed his jacket and took off his shirt. For someone who stands around in the bureau all day, Malik sure has muscles. I was so distracted by his abs, that I didn't even notice his arm. When I did, I looked away awkwardly.

"I snagged this on a broken window months ago, but haven't found anyone to fix it," He explained, showing me the large tear in the back of the shirt. No wonder I didn't see it before; the jacket would've hidden it.

"Do you think you could sew it back up?" he asked.

It just looked like a basic tear; certainly something my basic sewing skills could take care off...assuming I could get a needle and thread somewhere...

"Um, sure. I shouldn't take long," I replied finally, accepting the shirt.

I suddenly had a hunch that there might be a sewing kit in my robes, and proceeded to search the pockets. Moments later, I actually found one. My theory of these pockets being portals to another dimension was beginning to seem more and more viable.

I looked through the kit and found white thread which matched the shirt closely enough, and thread it through the eye of the needle. All those hours spent repairing my own jeans and making lame cosplays were actually paying off. I pulled a decent length of the thread and cut it off using one of my throwing knives; the only real use I had actually found for the blades. Malik seemed to watch me with scrutiny as I tied a knot in the end and proceeded to sew up the tear, cross-stitching for maximum strength.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to stitch diagonally in one direction and go over the stitches in the other afterwards?" Malik pointed out.

Of course, he was right, surprisingly so for someone who couldn't sew it himself. "...obviously. I was just seeing if you were paying attention," I replied pathetically. Why would he need to pay attention? I was covering my own ass, that's what it was. And quite poorly.

Malik seemed to pick up on that as well, "I see."

I had to change the topic, "So, what's it like being in charge of an entire Bureau? Busy, I'll bet."

Malik shrugged slightly and leaned back, "Not so much. Altair is the only one who comes here regularly. And that's not even very often."

That was half surprising, half expected; exactly how many assassins were really in the Brotherhood? Were there any that existed that weren't there for Altair's purposes or appearance-sake in Masyaf?

"Really? So what do you do in the down time?" I continued, still sewing.

"I keep busy. Working on maps, mostly. Keeping up the supplies. General maintenance."

"Sounds like a pretty cushy job," I remarked, thinking back to my own employment experiences in fast-food and the constant stream of annoying customers.

Malik actually smiled, "It is, really."

I continued, "I guess it must be karmatic compensation for the accident,"

And the smile was gone. I spoke too soon. Damn foot-in-mouth disease (not to be mistaken for the zoonosis spread by cattle and sheep*).

"So do you have any hobbies? I can't imagine map-making and maintenance takes up _all_ your time," I attempted to recover.

"...Not really," Malik confessed, "I mean, I...try to keep up with my training. Just in case I'm ever called to fight again."

I was kind of surprised. I thought that he might try to _avoid_ anything that would remind him of his limitations, yet it seemed like he was attempting to concur them.

"...that's really...unexpected," I admitted.

Malik raised an eyebrow, "Why? You think that because I lost an arm, I should be sitting around feeling sorry for myself all day?"

I shook my head quickly, "No, that's not what I meant at all."

"Then what did you mean?" he challenged.

I had to think about how to proceed without insulting him further. "...I just meant that...that's what a lesser man might've done," I began slowly, "It's really admirable of you that you'd...keep up your skills like that. Brave, even."

I wasn't really saying anything different to what he had suggested, but something I had learned about 'spin', was that it was all about the delivery, and the way you put things. An insult can become a compliment with just a few different words. Ah, how glorious the English language...if that's what we were even really speaking.

And Malik seemed to respond just how I had hoped. He smiled awkwardly, "Um, thanks."

Suddenly, it occurred to me that I could take advantage of this.

"So, you still remember all your fighting skills and stuff then?" I continued.

"...yes," Malik replied, suitably suspicious considering that's what he had just said not five minutes ago.

"Hmm," I nodded thoughtfully.

There was silence...until Malik's curiosity apparently got the better of him. "Why?"

I took a deep breath, "Well, you know how I'm helping out Altair..."

"Yes, what about it?"

"Well, as a 'seamstress', I don't strictly exactly..._know_...how to fight. Exactly," I revealed cautiously.

Malik paused, "...how have you survived so long like that?"

"Three parts Altair and one part luck."

"...luck?"

"Virtually none of my kills were directly intentional."

"...none?"

I nodded with shame, "But I don't think I'll be able to keep up this lucky streak,"

Malik studied me carefully, "...and you want me to teach you?" he guessed correctly.

"Just enough to be helpful. If it's not that much trouble," I said quickly.

Malik shook his head, "Assassins train for years in the Brotherhood to master their skills. Do you really expect me to condense ten years of training into one night?"

"...well, I don't expect to be a _master_. Just the basics. So I can actually help Altair, rather than be a burden to him in battle," I amended.

He seemed to consider my request carefully, "I suppose I could teach you a few things that would help stop you getting killed so easily."

I almost couldn't believe that he actually agreed, "Really?"

Malik shrugged "Why not? Might as well do something to pass the time while we wait for Altair to return with the food."

I couldn't contain my happiness. Deep down, I'd always wanted real weapons training, and now I was going to get it from one of the most legendary (at least according to the Wiki) fighters in the Brotherhood. It doesn't get much better than that.

Malik interrupted my thoughts by throwing a sword at my feet. "Come on then, let's get started."

I eyed the shiny metal wearily. "...no wooden training sword?"

"Not if you want to learn in one night," Malik countered, holding his blade steady in his remaining hand and nodded to the one at my feet, "Pick it up and we'll begin."

I gulped, dropping the sewing on the table and picked up the sword nervously. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea afterall.

_*see chapter 15_

_*Foot AND Mouth disease...yep, that's the Animal Science for you. _

* * *

**Ah, Malik; making amputees attactive since 1142 or whatever the year is supposed to be again.**

**I know, it's only a short chapter. You'd probably think I'd have more after so long, but University is time consuming. But I've had a rare lull in work load recently and managed to get this out. The good news is, holidays in 2 weeks :D So probably some more then. Unless I'm too busy working on all the assignments due when we get back. And then exams T_T God this course is annoying. **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little update, and please bear with me during the absence. I really appreciate all the reviews I've been getting. You guys are amazing. And yes, the PMs work amazingly well to remind to me to update. So, if you're sick of the downtime, bug me with a PM and I might get to work faster, lol. **

**See you next time**

**Tiger-cub684**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Every muscle I knew I had, and a few I didn't, were aching more they'd ever done in my life. I stood, panting exhaustedly after knocking Malik's blade away in another counter strike. Malik stood patiently meters away, completely unfazed.

"That was good. Just remember to keep your weight on your back foot, otherwise you'll topple over if one of the knights did what I just did. It's all about balance, and using your opponents' momentum against them," Malik explained. He was an excellent teacher, surprisingly.

"Is this the kind of stuff you and Altair learned?" I asked in between pants.

"Some of it, yes. Although for your purposes I'm focusing more on defensive fighting. You should be able to rely on Altair to lead any attack," he replied, before adding, "That was one thing he was always good at, for better or worse."

"But what if Altair's been captured? How will I save him with only defensive moves?"

"If Altair has been captured, without proper back up, you're dead already. You won't need to worry about that."

"…great."

"All the more reason to master defensive fighting. That way he should be able to concentrate on the objective without worrying about you…something I never thought would be a problem, but I guess things change."

"What do you mean?" I pressed on, partially using it as a stall tactic in light of my aching body.

"Altair has never been known to put anything before completing the mission. Not people, not extrmifying circumstance, not having your friend captured and killed. He was tunnel-visioned," he explained, adding bitterly, "But it seems that with you, it's different."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, other than blushing lightly and looking down at the ground sheepishly, "…really?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "I can't imagine why."

I shrugged, "Maybe it's because I'm a girl…"

"Yes, I'm sure that's part of it." He agreed.

"…but whatever you're probably thinking, it's not like that. We're not-"

"Look, I'm not here to judge. All I know is, whatever you're doing, it's working. Never in all my life have I seen Altair offer to help with something so menial as getting groceries before," he revealed, "whatever you're doing, but all means, keep doing it. You're turning him into an actual person."

I couldn't help but smile. Just goes to show that nagging _does_ work. "You really think so?"

"Yes, I do. You've somehow managed to get through to him in five days more than the rest of us have in years. It's a miracle."

Considering all this is probably due to the great mystery of falling through the fourth wall and entering the game, a miracle was about right.

"Glad I could help,"

Malik seemed to relish the comfortable silence for a few moments, before clearing his throat and adjusting is grip on his sword, "So, shall we go again?"

I sighed. I was going to have trouble getting up in the morning. "Sure, I guess."

And without further warning, he charged.

* * *

I stepped forward, slashing at Malik; beating him back. I was finally getting the hang of this. In my peripheral vision, I noticed a white flash and turned to see Altair stepping into the room, arms ladled with packages.

In my moment of distraction, Malik brought down his sword, pushing me roughly to the floor and pinning me down with the blade to my neck.

"-and, you're dead," he announced.

"Malik! What are you doing? Get off her!" Altair shouted, rushing over.

Malik ignored him and stepped back. "You were doing so well, but you got distracted. Final lesson for now; be aware of your surroundings at all times, so enemies can't sneak up on you, but remain focused on your target, lest they make a move and slit your throat before you have a chance to blink."

I glanced at him questioningly, "So I'm supposed to be aware of things around me but focus only on what's in front of me? How the hell am I supposed to do that? You're telling me to do the complete opposite of things, simultaneously!"

"Aren't women supposed to be good at multitasking?" He countered.

I sighed. Couldn't argue with that. If I could find a way to watch Futurama, organise weekend plans through text, play Farmville and study for a physiology exam all at the same time, I could probably learn to manage this.

"…ok, so what exactly is going on here?" Altair asked, looking quite bemused.

I glanced at him. "Malik is teaching me how to fight," I replied, "obviously."

Altair glanced at the shirtless and sweating Malik, still holding his sword, before turning back to me. "I see…and you realise you're bleeding, right?"

It was my turn to be confused, "…I am?"

"Yes, on your cheek," he replied, pointing on his face the corresponding cheek.

I brought my hand up and felt around, before finding he was right. It was strange seeing my fingers covered in the red, sticky substance; strange that I hadn't noticed or felt anything. "Is it bad?" I asked.

"It's only a minor cut," Malik cut in, putting his sword down and picking up his jacket, "It will be gone in a few days."

I tried to mentally recall the moment where I could've earned my new scar, but the whole fight was beginning to become one long blur, starting from before I had the cut, and up to his moment. There was no pin-pointing exactly when it happened.

"Well, now that this is done," Malik began, taking the food packages from Altair, "I think I'll start preparing supper."

"Do you want any help?" Altair offered, surprising us again with his sudden altruism.

Malik glanced at him with slight confusion, "No, you'll only get in the way."

"Fair enough," Altair took a seat at the large table, "I'll just sit here and read this carefully-sealed letter the female merchant slipped me." He reached into his robes and indeed pulled out a letter with a wax seal in the shape of a heart.

Malik jumped and quickly walked over, snatching the letter away, "That's not addressed to you."

"So?" Altair countered, sounding much more like his old-self, "It's not addressed to you either…unless your name is suddenly 'snuggle bunny'."

Malik blushed scarlet.

Altair smirked, "So, you're courting the merchant girl? Who would've thought ol' proper and studious Malik would've fallen for someone so…common. And while on duty, no less. My, how times have changed..."

"It's not like that!" Malik protested, acting like a caught-out school girl, "She's an ally. She's been feeding me information about the Templars!"

"Oh? What does the letter say then?" Altair challenged.

Malik hesitated, "…that's none of your business."

"Really? Because if it's about the Templars, maybe I should read it-" Altair reached nonchalantly for the letter.

The bureau attendant pulled out of his reach quickly, "It's just the usual boring information report. Most of it in code. You wouldn't understand."

Altair raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you sure it doesn't say something along the lines of 'Dear Shnookums. My heart fills with sorrow every moment we are apart. My flesh aches to be embraced by your strong arm-"

"Enough! It says nothing of the sort!" Malik protested.

Altair winked at me and muttered, "Actually, that was word for word."

I snorted in laughter, quickly lamenting my metamorphosis into a pig, before glancing back at Altair, "So you _did_ read it?"

Altair smirked "Of course I did….it could've held important information. It's standard procedure."

"Riiight. Of course it is," I replied sarcastically, "I'm sure you had a whole class about it; Invading Privacy 101."

"Invading privacy, that sounds about right," Malik muttered from the bench, chopping vegetables angrily.

"Aww Malik. Don't worry. I think it's adorable," I cooed, "What's her name?"

"Angela," He revealed hesitantly.

"Awwww, that's an awesome name," I remarked, resisting the urge to start talking condescendingly in a baby voice, "you must be such a cute couple."

"Stop that," he said sharply.

"Stop what?"

"The whole 'awww' thing. It's stupid. And besides, there's nothing 'aww' about it. Nothing will ever come of Angela and I anyway."

"…how come?" I asked, "Don't you ever want to get married and have a family?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," Malik replied, matter-of-factly, "I don't know what it's like where you're from, but here, official courting requires her father's permission, a five year plan, and a job that _isn't_ working for a secret organisation of assassins, especially when said father is cooperating with the Templars."

"Oh…that must suck," I remarked, "Wait, you said her father's working with the Templars?"

"He's a blacksmith. Makes their armour exclusively," he explained, "which is enough to know that even being around Angela is dangerous…but she's where I buy all my groceries, so I have little choice."

"…couldn't you just buy food from another merchant?" I asked the obvious question.

"…no," he replied, blushing, "…no one else knows what I like…plus she gives me free saffron."

I was tempted to go 'nawww' again, but as if he read my mind, Malik glared warningly. "And what about the love-letters?" I asked.

"What about them?" Malik turned back to his cooking, seemingly in an attempt to discourage me from asking any more question.

"If your love is so 'forbidden', why are you sending each other love letters?"

"…I'm an assassin. I live dangerously," he said, stirring the pot.

Aww, it was like something out of a steamy romance novel. A modern day Romeo and Juliet…well, maybe not exactly so modern…maybe even predating them. But still, this side of Malik was far sweeter than I had ever imagined.

Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by boisterous laughter. I turned to see Altair virtually doubled over, laughing hysterically. Malik scowled, turning bright red.

I wacked Altair, "Don't."

But it was useless. Finally, he calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye, "that's the most hilarious thing I've heard, ever."

Malik glared. If looks could kill, Altair would've been six feet under within seconds.

But he continued regardless, "Malik A-Sayf, in love. If the boys back in Masyaf could hear this-"

"Shut up, Altair!" I protested, on Malik's behalf. From the way he was chopping up the meat, I could tell he was imagining it was Altair's head.

"It's just brilliant!" He began laughing again.

Finally, Malik had enough. He threw down the knife and turned to us. "Out!"

Altair stopped laughing, "What?"

"Get out of my kitchen! I can't concentrate with you two fools monkeying about!" He expanded angrily.

"Me too? What did I do?" I asked. And to think I'd been defending him.

"Out!" He shouted again, this time picking up his knife to at emphasis to his gesture.

Altair and I quickly scampered out the room, knowing that an angry assassin holding a butchers knife was never a smart thing to face, especially when said assassin was a master of projectiles. We stopped out in the hall, closing the door behind us.

I glared at Altair, "Nice work."

He scoffed, "You're blaming me? It's not my fault he's such a-"

"No, there's no excuse this time. Shame on you for teasing him for finding some happiness. You guys live and breathe this conflict, wouldn't it be nice to have _something_ in your life you could have that doesn't have anything to do with Templars or killing or pieces of Eden? Maybe a lover or girlfriend?" I suggested, "Or hell, just a friend! Some semblance of normality in an otherwise abnormal life?"

"…Yeah, but it's Malik!" he said finally.

I sighed, "I'm not getting through to you at all, am I?"

"Nope."

Of course I'm not. "So, what now?" I asked, "Since I assume you're not about to go apologise to Malik."

"Well, usually he'll stay angry for a few hours. That should be enough time to prepare the food. We could find something to do in the meantime." He suggested.

"…like what?"

"Well, Malik was training you to fight with swords, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Well we could continue your training. But maybe with something else."

"You're going to teach me more archery?" I asked hopefully.

"No, I'm going to teach me to use these," he reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of throwing knives.

I eyed the knives wearily, "You sure? I mean, there's not a lot of space in here…" I glanced around at the narrow hallway.

"The main room should be big enough," he replied, "Besides, I think I know what we can use as a target."

* * *

**Woah, It's been…what, months? Since my last update? Yeah…sorry about that. Uni and all that. But good news is, my exams are over and I've finished for the year. Huzzah. **

**Still not promising weekly updates, since I like, have friends now (crazy, I know) who want me to do thing like go out to town with them and get drunk, etc. BUT weekly updates is what I'm aiming for. Let's hope this works. **

**Anyway, I'm glad to be back, I missed you all, and I hope you liked the chapter. **

**All feedback welcome :D**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

There was a satisfying thud as the knife buried itself into the wooden board.

"Nice shot," Altair commented, throwing his own knife skilfully next to mine.

"Are you sure Malik won't mind us using this old board as a target?" I asked, throwing another.

"Nah, he won't care," he replied, "Otherwise why would be put it in storage in the back?"

I couldn't argue with that logic. I hurled another knife at the board. I had drawn on a crude image of a Templar with a Sharpie marker I had found in my magical pocket-portal to another world. The wooden Templar gazed back with an angry cartoony expression, seemingly unfazed by the three knifes in his chest and one buried in his left ear. Altair threw another knife, landing squarely between his round squinty eyes.

"I never thought I'd say this, but training is kinda fun," I remarked, landing a knife in the templar's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll admit training usually isn't. I think it's the Templar."

I grinned. Finally my years of art class were paying off. I threw another knife, this time landing on the crotch.

Altair glanced at me, "You land a hit like that on a real Templar, and I'll carry you on my back for a day."

I grinned, "Really?"

He nodded, "but that's a one-in-a-million shot. You probably won't get it…"

I rolled my eyes, "We'll see. Unlike you, I won't have any reason to hesitate when it comes to mutilating a man's genitalia."

Altair smirked, "I had no idea you were so cold."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I replied, mysteriously.

"Oh?" He seemed intrigued.

"Like my name, for one," I reminded him.

He suddenly remembered this seemingly obvious factor "Oh yeah. What _is_ your real-"

"What the hell is going on here?" Malik demanded, appearing in the doorway.

I froze at his outraged tone, "…practicing throwing knives?"

"On my mother's antique mirror?" He continued.

"…that's not a mirror. A mirror has to be-" I stopped as Malik walked over to the board and turning it around, revealing the large polished metal surface, and intricately carved frame.

"…oh."

Altair shrugged, "Nice mirror. Looks expensive."

Malik seethed, "why would you use this as a DART BOARD?"

I whimpered under his gaze (and loud scary voice).

Altair, cool as a freaking cucumber, simply shrugged again, "If you didn't want us to use if for target practice, you should've hid it better than in the backroom, down the stairs, behind a secret door and in between your childhood chest of draws and an old saddle that belonged to Salazar the Great."

Malik glared.

"…ok I suppose that might've been a legitimate hiding spot for a normal person," Altair conceded eventually.

"You are impossible!" Malik declared, clutching his beloved mirror, "Look at all these holes you made! And is that a cactus?"

"…actually, it's meant to be a Templar," I intervened, "…see the crucifix?"

Malik glared.  
"Sorry," I whimpered pathetically. I've faced armed guards, scary Templars and disgruntled eagles, yet none of that was as scary as Malik at this moment.

"Relax Malik. It's made of thick wood, if you hang up the mirror no one will even notice," Altair suggested, completely unfazed. I envied his courage…or his stupidity.

Malik looked like he was about to explode, "No one will noti- YOU PUT HOLES IN MY MOTHER'S MIRROR!"

I was genuinely surprised when his head didn't shoot off like it does in the cartoons.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?" He continued angrily.

Altair faltered, sensing he had crossed the line, finally, "…we're sorry. I honestly didn't think you would min-"

"Just, forget it," Malik pinched the bridge of his nose, much like how I had seen Altair do when stressed many chapters earlier, "Dinner is ready. Just go in there and eat."

I felt bad for Malik. He had taken us in with (almost not really) open arms in our hour of need, and Altair was repaying him by being a dick. He didn't deserve this.

* * *

I kicked Altair from under the table, while waiting for Malik to dish out the stew.

He glanced at me, wincing slightly, "What?"

"What's with you?" I hissed, hoping to keep this conversation between us, "Outside you're all serious and focused on the mission, but here in the bureau you're…you're acting like a child!"

"…a child?"  
"Yes, a spoilt one…who's fat because his parents give him too much chocolate!" I elaborated,

Altair rolled his eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do! What's with all this? Why are you such a bastard to Malik? You started off so well!"

"I was not-"

I glared.  
"Ok, fine, I guess I can see why it might look like I'm messing around…" he finally admitted.

"But why? I thought you wanted to repair your friendship! Nice work so far!" I remarked sarcastically.

"Yes, I know. And I still do. I just…he's so easy to rile up. He's got a short temper. It's hard to resist," he shrugged simply.

I couldn't believe my ears. "…seriously? That's it?"

He shrugged again, "An assassin's got to have some fun some times. And besides, Malik will forgive me. He always does."

"Just like he forgave you for getting Kadar killed and losing his arm?" I reminded him.

"…good point. I'll try harder from now on."

"Yeah, you better. Cos if he snaps and kills you before we get to Robert, I may never get out of this world!"

At that moment, Malik brought us our stew, "I hope you like rabbit."

I cringed. Although I had a strict selective-vegetarian policy of not eating anything that wasn't specifically traditionally breed for meat, after all that had happened today, I didn't dare complain and risk Malik throwing me out or something. I ate a spoonful of the stew and smiled, "It's great," I said as my soul died a little at the thought of the poor fluffy bunny. Oh well, I suppose it was just a game-bunny. Maybe this doesn't even count.

* * *

After the bowls were cleared, Malik threw down six coloured sacks onto the table in front of me.

I glanced at them curiously, "What are these? Dessert?"

"No," Malik replied, sitting back at the table, "They are your next lesson."

"Oh, so we're still going on with my training? I thought we'd done enough," I replied.

"For you, there's no such thing as enough training," Altair remarked.

"Ha ha," I rolled my eyes, "So what is it this time?"

"One of an assassin's most important weapons of subtly," Malik replied, "Poisons."

Hmm, I hadn't remembered ever using poisons in the game before. "Are you sure they're really that important?"

"Crucial," he reiterated, "in delivering the most subtle of demises, but unfortunately not as easily utilised as blades. In order to poison someone, you usually have to have access to their food or beverage, and as you may have noticed in your travels with Altair, that isn't always an option."

"…is it ever an option?"

"Of course. In the past we've both had missions where we had to assassinate difficult targets, targets we would never have been able to fight our way to get to. And if you can't fight your way in, you disguise your way in," Malik continued.

"I remember when I had to kill a visiting ambassador from a neighbouring kingdom. He was a corrupt man, his money earned off the backs of child labourers," Altair jumped in, "He was so heavily guarded, my only option was to disguise myself as one of his kitchen staff and poison his fish. He died four hours later, alone in his room. His doctors declared it death by heart-attack. No one ever suspected foul play."

I had to be impressed at that effort. And why didn't the developers ever think of giving us a mission like that? It sounded far more fun than sneaking up to a fat man in a crowd and stabbing him to me. "Wow."

"Not all poisons take that long to work, though. Some can kill within minutes," Malik added, "But the longer acting ones can also be used in interrogations, still giving us time to administer the antidote if we need to."

"And the stuff in these bags are poisons?" I asked, glancing at the bags.

"Yes and no," Malik replied.

"…ok, I really don't see how that question could have two answers," I remarked.

"Let me explain," he began, "In the brotherhood, while any toxin can have its uses, there are three common poisons that we use the most. These are the most useful for our day-to-day work."

"…you use these every day?"

"I didn't say that. Now stop interrupting!"

"Ok ok, get on with the story."

Malik cleared his throat, "As I was saying, there are five poisons we use most commonly; Iocane, Caladium, and Nightshade."

"Iocane causes outright death, within about ten minutes if not sooner, depending on the persons' size and how much you give them," Altair explained, "Caladium's what I used with the ambassador. It will kill a person slowly, and painfully, first causing hives, then dizziness, which aren't often associated with poisoning unless a physician knows what to look for. Next comes swelling and finally death. It can take a several hours. A close relative to Caladium, and one of my favourites, green aniseed, will make your target do the job for you. It will make them feel invincible. Usually most victims end up killing themselves, trying to jump off buildings or stand in front of stampeding horses. Otherwise they'll drop dead about 12 hours later. But it's hard to come-by so it's not so commonly used within the Brotherhood. But anyway, then we have Nightshade. It first puts the target into a death-like sleep. They will look, feel and even smell dead."

"And let me guess, they wake up a few hours later, fooling everyone?" I suggested, thinking back to my ventures with Romeo and Juliet.  
"No, a few hours later, they die for good."

"…oh."

"Yes…I don't know where you got that idea from…although I can see how seeming dead without actually being dead would be useful. But in this instance, you don't wake up unless someone administers the antidote," Altair continues.

"Antidote?"

"Yes, that's why there are six bags on the table," Malik replied.  
"Ooooh…I was wondering that."

"Half of them are antidotes. They each have a corresponding poison."

"Oh, I get it. So you have those three main poisons, and their antidotes. But why carry the antidotes?" I asked.

"In case one of us gets poisoned accidentally." Altair replied.

"…how would one of you get accidentally poisoned-"

"Look, this isn't an exact science. Accidents happen, even among assassins," Altair said quickly, "It never hurts to have contingency plans in place."

"Besides," Malik added, "These poisons are also the most commonly used by our enemies too, so carrying antidotes enables us to defend ourselves there. Plus, these antidotes can help alleviate most related poisons as well."

It was actually a rather smart idea. "I guess all that makes sense," I remarked, "So…how do you know which of these is which?" I nodded to the coloured sacks on the table.

"The poisons are in the warm-coloured sacks, and the antidotes in the contrastingly cool-coloured sacks," Malik explained.  
"Oh, so it follows ittens colour wheel?" I asked.  
"…who's colour wheel?"

"…Johannes Itten…the artist who developed the colour wheel demonstrating how the three primary colours mix to form the tertiary colours, and the relationship of contrasting hues- yeah, I can see you're not following."

The one-armed assassin looked angrily baffled, "…what the hell are you taking about?"

"…never mind. Continue with your explanation," I muttered.

Malik gave me an odd look, before continuing, "Anyway, red contrasts oppositely with green, yellow with purple and blue with orange. So Caladium, which is in the orange sack, has its antidote in the blue one, and so forth."

"…why not just label the sacks? You know, with letters?" It seemed an obvious choice over this complicated colour system that was _totally_ based on Ittens colour theory, whether he knew it or not.

"Proper labels would make it too easy for just anyone to use the poisons," Malik replied.

"…so instead, you're using this vague colour system that leaves room for, say, assassins-in-training to make a fatal mistake?"

"…anyone who doesn't learn quickly isn't fit to be an assassin. In that respect, the poison-labelling system can help sort out those who are worthy," Malik countered.

I raised an eyebrow at the implication that they could be so ruthless. I suppose logically it made sense, but still…

I glanced at Altair for some sort of support.

"Malik's right. Every stage of an assassin's training is bound to have at least some losses. That's why we take such a large number of recruits, but only end up with a hand-full of assassins. There's no room for error in such a dangerous and important line of work," He replied, saying just the opposite that I was hoping for, "hence why we like to throw apprentices into the deep end."

Something about that last sentence gave me an immediate sense of dread. "…you've somehow thrown me into the deep end again, haven't you?"

"I haven't listed the symptoms of Nightshade poisoning yet, have I?" Malik said suddenly, "Usually is starts with numbness in your fingers, shortness-of-breath, heart arrhythmia, and then dizziness. They usually happen quite quickly once the poison kicks in. And after that, it's usually only a matter of minutes before the fake-death sets in."

As he finished speaking, my fingertips started to feel weird. I tapped them on the table, hoping it was just a circulation problem, but I could barely feel the wood-grain. They were numb.

I glared at Malik, "You poisoned me!"

He shrugged, "It was Altair's idea."

I turned my attention to Altair, "How could you do this?"

"It's part of your training," He replied cooly, "an assassin should always be wary of poisoning in food. You were careless."

I should've known they wouldn't have had soy sauce in this part of the world. The bitter aftertaste of the stew must have been the poison. Breathing suddenly became somewhat more difficult. I gasped, "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Altair nodded to the table, "The antidote's here. You've just got to pick it out."

I could feel my heart beginning to beat irregularly. Panic was setting in. "You never told me what colour Nightshade was in!" I protested.

"Oh, didn't we? It's the red one." Altair replied.

I tried to think, as the room started to spin, what went opposite red? Was it blue? Purple? Or green? I desperately tried to think back to those high-school art lessons, but it was becoming more and more difficult to focus. I tried to picture the colour wheel. The three primary colours, red, blue and yellow. Red and blue make purple, which is opposite yellow. Red and yellow make orange, which is opposite blue, and blue and yellow make green, which contrasts red. That was it, the answer! I quickly picked up the green sack.

I put all my effort into focusing on Altair, "Now what?"

Malik put a wooden cup of water in front of me.

"Just take a pinch of the powder and mix it in the water. It's potent, so that should be enough," Altair explained.

I struggled to open the bag, or rather two bags, as it seemed before me. I glanced back at him. "Can't you do it?"

"I'm not always going to be there to bail you out," Altair replied, "You need to learn to do things like this yourself, and under moments of high-stress."

I mentally cursed him, attempting to pull open the strings of the bag again. It's funny how the simplest of tasks can become so much more difficult when dunk or dangerously poisoned.

Finally, I opened it. I carefully pulled out a pinch of the powder and sprinkled it into the cup, focusing like I never had before on such a seemingly simple task. Mixing the solution with a finger, I lifted up the cup and drank; skulling the mixture.

A few moments later, I put the cup down. Already, my mind became clearer and the room less shaky. Moments after that, I could take deep breaths again. Only when all the symptoms had subsided did I try talking again.

"You could've killed me!" I croaked at the assassins.

Altair rolled his eyes, "We weren't going to let you die. We would've administered the antidote after you passed out…probably."

I continued glaring.

"Consider it payback for the map," he added.

I should've known he'd get me back for that, but I never suspected he'd risk my life doing it.

"I could've died!" I protested again, "And all for some stupid lesson?"

"This 'stupid lesson' could one-day save your life. And you're not likely to forget it now, are you?" He countered.

I scowled. He was right, of course. There's no way I'd ever forget the principals of Ittens colour wheel now, or its applications here. I hated that he was right.

"Well, I think that's enough training for one day," Malik said, "You should probably get some rest. Poison can be taxing on your immune system."

Well obviously. I glanced back at Altair, hoping in vain maybe for some sort of apology. What I got was better.

"…Altair, why are you suddenly covered in blotches?" I asked, watching as his face started coming out in painfully red hives.

It was his turn to be confused, "…what?" he touched his cheek carefully.

Malik smirked as Altair became more confused.

Altair glared at him, "You poisoned me too!" He accused.

Malik shrugged, "That mirror is priceless."

Sluggishly, Altair reached for the blue antidote sack, quickly mixing together the solution and drinking.

I couldn't help but smile, "It's not so fun when it's you being poisoned, is it?"

He glared at my remark, but knew it was justified. "This isn't over," he threatened Malik.

Malik gazed back smugly, "Yes it is. Now out of my kitchen before I get out the Iocane."

* * *

**Yes, a dangerous game of wits. Poisons; more fun than Russian roulette. **

**I hope you guys enjoyed that chapter. **

**Thanks so much for all the reviews last time. They really helped kick off my holidays. You guys are awesome. **

**Anyways, that's another chapter done. Gradually, I'm working out the plot points for the rest of the story, with the end in sight. Hopefully it'll wrap up nicely. **

**So…yeah. Inspire me to work faster by sending reviews :D All feedback more than welcome. **


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

I woke up in either the middle of the night or early morning. My arm was painfully numb. I must have rolled over and laid on it in my sleep. Sitting up on the sleeping mat, I glanced back at the sleeping figure of Altair. He looked almost peaceful, deep in the land of dreams (assuming artificial intelligence can dream). Malik had retired to his own room elsewhere in the building. There was almost complete silence, aside from Altair's gentle breathing and the sound of chirping crickets, as well as the occasional muffled voice of a mysterious passer-by outside.

Thirsty, as I often strangely was at night, I got up. I didn't think there would be any sort of running in water in the kitchen, so where to go? Then I remembered the shimmering Animus-bathroom. Would it still be here? Would I even be able to walk into it? I concluded it was worth a shot, either way.

Quietly tip-toeing past Altair and back into the hall, I walked down the stone path towards the end, where a closed wooden door glowed ominously around the edges. Eventually reaching it, I turned the brass handle. A shimmering aqueous veil stood between me and the spotless white bathroom. It looked strangely familiar, but I couldn't work out from where.

Cautiously, I reached out at the veil, gingerly touching it. It was cool and silky, not wet like I'd imagined. I pushed my whole hand through. It glided past the veil smoothly without obstruction. It certainly seemed passable. Satisfied it wasn't corrosive acid about to burn me down to the bones, I stepped through.

I instantly knew I wasn't in the bureau. It wasn't just the sleek metal floor, walls and furnishings or blinding florescent lights, but even the _feel_ of the room was different. The muffled sounds of…well…life, were gone, instead replaced with this cold, sterile environment. I certainly wasn't in Kansas anymore…not that I'd ever been to Kansas anyway.

Suddenly, it hit me. This room looked remarkably like the bathroom of Desmond's quarters, back in the "present day" part of the game. I took a closer look at the room, just to confirm. From my lengthy investigations of the room back when I was playing third-person (hunting for easter eggs), it matched my expectations. Unused toilet, stainless-steel shower, and bench with vent leading to the meeting room next door. Curious, I climbed up on the bench and up to the vent, listening for anything. Muffled conversation echoed through, probably between Lucy and Dr Vidic. So I wasn't alone.

Giving up on being able to understand any of the stifled words, I hopped off the bench. The automatic door opened to the bedroom. I entered the spartan room, with its simple bed and wardrobe setup. Curious, I slid open the cupboard, finding only some spare clothes (the same light grey hoodie and pants Desmond was always wearing…and no wonder, if this is all he has). Still baffled at the whole concept of now being in the game-future, I sat down on the end of the bed. Desmond's bed. It looked remarkably unused, which isn't surprising since he never seemed to go under the covers. But I digress; what did this all mean? Wasn't Altair's whole portion of the game just Desmond reliving it? Would that mean Desmond had been watching the whole time? Would he know who I was? Was he, much like the player, an omniscient observer or could he only see what Altair sees? So many questions swam through my head.

And speaking of Desmond, where was he? I tentatively walked up to the door to the final room. It slid open silently. The large white room was empty, Lucy and Vidic assumably still talking in the other room. The whole set up was even prettier in real life- or rather, being there in person (since it wasn't technically real life). The ever-present sun shone in from a shiny bright future-world, a stark contrast to the earthy tones of the Holy Lands. I walked up to the Animus. There he was; Desmond, not quite sleeping, not quite comatose, but somewhere in between. Almost like a deep trance. I poked his arm, getting no response. He was deeply under. Up close, it was easy to see the resemblance between him and Altair, down to the lip-scar. There was no doubting they were related. Perhaps he was even a reincarnate of Altair. Who's to say?

My musings were disrupted suddenly by the sound of opening doors. I spun around to see Lucy walk in, spot me and freeze. She quickly glanced back. Vidic had left through the door on the other side of the meeting room, to the outside world somewhere. She turned back to me. "Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?"

Where to start…

"…Um…" I faltered. I'd never had to worry about this problem with Altair. _He_ knew where I was from and everyone else had just assumed I was with him. What do I say to her?

"Well?" she asked, getting impatient.

"…I'm a friend," I replied weakly.

As expected, she didn't look convinced.

"…of Altair," I added, wondering why I hadn't just run back to the bathroom already.

Unexpectedly, she faltered at that claim. "…Altair?"

I stood there, frozen, awaiting judgement, in the awkward silence.

"…I came through a portal in the bathroom," I added, breaking the silence.

She shook her head, "You're lying. This doesn't make any sense."

Sense? Things stopped making sense the second in was pulled into my TV. I told her so.

She shook her head, convinced more than ever that I was crazy. "We've really got to get better security."

"It's the truth!" I insisted, although I had failed to mention the part about me playing all this as a video game, "I don't know how, but I was pulled into Altair's world and I've been travelling around with him ever since."

She paused again, "…this might explain the anomaly with the Animus."

So my presence _had_ had an effect with other parts of the game. "…anomaly?" I ventured.

She seemed conflicted, between further revealing her own unspoken suspicions, and thus entertaining the notion that my wild story had some truth in it, or dismissing the entire thing and having me forcibly kicked out, or so I assumed. Finally, she spoke, "…we had been getting some…unusual readings from the Animus."

"Unusual?"

She shook her head, "I can't explain it. It was just…unusual. Like there has been some sort of disturbance. Vidic still believes its rats chewing on chords somewhere."

Of course. Everyone always blames the rats.

"…but if what you're saying is true…it might help explain it," she said finally.

I was surprised at how well this was going. Surely in my own world, there would be more doubt to claims such as falling through a television set and into the 1100s. There was no logical or scientific way any of this would make sense, unless you started going into fringe science…but come to think of it, creating a machine that can enable the user to delve into the lives of his ancestors sounded a lot like fringe science to me.

"That lightning storm we had last week must have hit one of the desponders and compromised the circuits, opening a wormhole into Desmond's ancestry," Lucy continued, now at the computer at the Animus, punching buttons.

"…a wormhole?" Sounded like someone had been watching too much SyFy.

She looked up, "It's plausible, although highly improbable…or so I thought."

"So you're saying that I'm here because of some lightning storm?" I asked.

"A large electric shock could've charged the free protons used in the core, which powers the Animus. Charging the protons can cause hiccups in the program, scattering them, perhaps even to where you are, where they reformed, creating a wormhole."

It all sounded like nonsense to me. Either it was highly complicated physics, or the game developers had gotten lazy in their research and simply strung a whole bunch of science-y sounding words together to seem smart. But either way, it was what was running this world, so I went with it. "Ah, I guess that makes sense…" I lied.

"And the protons being so unstable, it's also possible that they then formed another wormhole to lead you back here," she looked up, "there could be many more, leading god-knows where."

"…are you saying it's possible for other characters- er, people, to also leave…that time, and come here?" I asked, wondering more if we were about to be overrun by 12th century Templars.

She shook her head, "No. Once you passed through the portal the first time, your cells became charged by the protons. Essentially you were given a genetic signature allowing you to travel through subsequent portals. No one else should be able to get through, or perhaps even see these wormholes."

I gave up, "I still don't see how this machine can be causing me to jump in and out of the past, and specifically, through Desmond's ancestors' past."

Lucy paused from her typing, "The reactor core of the Animus runs on the same basic principles of the Large Hadron Collider. By colliding atoms together and breaking them into neutrinos, we create unstable molecules. Some predicted we could form black holes through this process. And what has happened appears to be something similar."

Now I started to recognise some of these words. "Wasn't the Hadron Collider supposed to recreate the Big Bang?" I asked. Thank you Fox News 1.

"Yes, but often in science we get unexpected outcomes," she looked up, "many major discoveries have been the result of accidents."

"Like penicillin," I suggested.

"Exactly."

I watched her frantically type some more, until she apparently finished. "Where did you say you were from?"

"…Jerusalem?"

"No, originally."

"Australia." I failed to mention the 2009 part.

"Interesting…" she bit her lip in thought, "And you say you're a friend of Altair?"

I nodded, "I've been helping- well, _attempting_ to help him, take out the Templars."

"…so you're with us?" she asked, before noticeably mentally cursing herself for letting that slip.

"Yeah, I never liked organised religion much anyway," I shrugged, "and what the Templars are trying to do is wrong. You can't build Utopia. It'll never work."

"Well, that's all really a front for their real intentions of gaining global domination," she corrected.

"Oh…well, that's bad too." Of course that was their real intention. It was the goal of any evil organisation worth their salt.

She smiled, for the first time that I had ever seen, before becoming serious again, "…Warren can't know about all this."

I felt it had to be asked, even though it seemed kinda obvious, "…why?"

She gave me a knowing look. I assumed it was her way of saying 'It's on a classified, need to know basis, and the fact you're even asking proves you don't need to know.'

Before I could hound her with more questions, there was a muffled squeal as the door in the meeting room (which needed a good oiling) creaked open.

"Fuck, Warren." This would have to be the first time I had heard Lucy swear.

"What do I do?" I asked.

"Go hide in Desmond's room!" she said quickly, pointing back to the bedroom. Seeing Dr Warren Vidic slowly walk through the meeting room, nose buried in some file, I ran back to the room.

I hid behind the doorframe, watching as the door to the meeting room finally slid open and Vidic walked through. "Have you worked out why this is taking so long, yet?" He asked, still reading the file.

"No, not yet," Lucy replied, typing at the computer.

"Well why not? We've been keeping him here for weeks! You told me this process would only take five days." He reminded her, putting the file down on Desmond's legs, as if he were an inanimate coffee table or something.

"I said it would take _at least_ five days. Or longer," she reminded him, "these things take time. You can't just rush him through the memories. And if you try, we could lose him and any hope of finding the treasure."

Vidic grumbled, "Why did we have to get someone so pathetic?"

Lucy frowned, the only sign she allowed herself to show of her concern for the man lying in front of her, "He's the one with the memories, so you're just going to have to deal with it."

Vidic sneered, "Don't forget who you're talking too, woman."

Even from here, I could see her grit her teeth, holding her tongue from lashing out at his misogyny. But he was her boss, and she needed to continue to stay under the radar until her mission was complete. And how I guessed all that from one expression, I'll never know. Call it intuition.

"Maybe he's keeping something from us on purpose," Vidic mused from his desk.

"Why would he do that?" Lucy asked.

"Why wouldn't he? We dragged him from his apartment in the middle of the night, forcing him into the Animus. He's smart enough to know we don't really plan on letting him go once he's given us what we want."

Lucy paused, "…and why can't we?"

Vidic put his file down and gave her a stern look, "You know why."

At that moment, my crouching knees gave way, and I fell back, thudding loudly against the wall. Vidic shot up. "What was that?"

Realising my time here was up, I ran back to the bathroom and to the shower, hoping to find a portal back. But to my horror, there was nothing.

Great, just great. I had attracted the attention of a potentially highly dangerous man, and now I had run straight into a dead-end. I glared at the windowless walls and tiny ventilation grate. These things were so much easier in the movies.

"Warren, wait. I think it was just a rat. Nothing to worry about," I heard Lucy say, trying to help me.

From the approaching footsteps, it seemed it didn't work. "Quiet woman," he dismissed.

Desperately, I jumped into the shower, crouching down in the corner. Maybe he would just come in and take a brief glance around…looking no lower than a metre from the ground…maybe. The footsteps became louder. I knew within seconds he would walk through that door, and it would be over. I didn't dare think what might happen to me next.

Luckily, I never found out. Just as I was giving up hope, rocking back and forth and praying to a dozen Gods in the hope one of them were listening, I fell back. When I opened my eyes, the shiny white bathroom was gone. Instead, there was simply a detailed tapestry, depicting a hooded assassin spearing a helmeted Templar with a sword.

"There you are. You shouldn't disappear like that. Altair was worried you'd somehow been taken by Templars in the night," Malik remarked sternly, "although why they would take _you_, I have no idea."

I sluggishly stood up, my joints still shaky from the adrenalin rush, "Good morning to you too."

"Breakfast is already ready," He replied.

I smiled sweetly, "Aww, aren't you just the cutest little housewife?"

He glared, as expected.

"I see you're wearing your shirt again," I nodded to the white tunic I had repaired the night before.

"Would you prefer I walked around half naked?" he countered.

I smirked, "Well, actually-"

He cut me off with simply a glare. Quite an impressive feat.

I grinned, my recent brush with almost certain death installing a sense of invincibility, "Relax. You can keep your shirt on. Although I'd suggest you seriously consider getting laid at some point. You need to mellow out."

I walked past him, leaving Malik to stutter angrily at the wall, struggling to come up with a rebuttle. One for me, zero for Malik. I could tell it was going to be a good day.

* * *

**So yeah…this chapter probably wasn't what you were expecting. But I hope it wasn't a disappointment. **

**And of course, all that science stuff is bullshit. I do biology and chemistry (and Livestock Production Science…yep *sighs), not physics. Maybe I should come up with an explanation that involves a detailed explanation of the circulatory system. Or the difference between meat and wool sheep- no? yeah, I agree. That would be boring. From here on in, we'll just stick with the assassin stuff. **

**And you're getting this chapter early too. Partly because I want to finish it, and partly (mostly) because of all the awesome reviews :D I told you they were motivating. Motivating enough to keep up two chapters a week? Well that may be a stretch but we'll never know until we try, won't we?**

**Well anyway (I get the feeling I just used a lot of W words), I hope you guys have a great weekend, and I'll see you next time. **


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I bounced into the kitchen feeling strangely energised. Perhaps it was the sleep, or maybe it was the thrill of magically escaping an unfortunate demise due the mysterious actions of the Animus and its convenient portals. Either way, I couldn't help but smile as I sat down to the bowl of…well, I wasn't even sure what it was. But is smelled delicious.

"…you're strangely perky this morning," Altair remarked.

I looked up. It had to be one of the few times I had seen him looking so relaxed; hood down, robes not properly buttoned up, his hidden blade still sitting on the table. I watched as he ate the almost porridge-like food with his good hand.

"Did that hurt?" I asked, picking up my own wooden spoon.

"Did what hurt?" He replied.

"Your finger. When it was cut off," I expanded.

Altair suddenly became serious, before answering coldly "Yes, very much so."

"Do all assassins get it done?" I continued, even though it was clear it wasn't a topic he was entirely eager to discuss.

"If they want to use the hidden blade properly, yes." He replied hesitantly, "Otherwise you end up mangling the finger anyway."

He made a good point, but it still seemed a bit harsh to have to cut off your ring finger for your job. "How come I can still use my hidden blade then?" I asked, while holding up my right hand and my five still-intact fingers (or rather, four fingers and thumb).

"It's still possible to use the hidden blade with all your fingers, but you can't do the punching thing." I got the sense this was something he'd rather demonstrate, but without the blade, it wouldn't have had the same effect.

"Oh, right," I nodded.

"It's important," he added, as if he needed to support his claim.

"I'm sure it is," I scooped up some of the contents of my bowl with the spoon.

"It is," he said again, "very important…"

I got the sense he was more trying to convince himself, so that all that pain hadn't been for nothing, "Yeah. This way, you don't get wrist cramp, or something," I agreed.

He smiled, "Yeah, exactly."

I ate the spoonful of the mysterious breakfast food. It tasted as good as it smelled. Swallowing, I asked another question, "So, why not get it done on both hands? Then you could have a double-punching hidden blade move."

Altair looked at me as if I was crazy, "How would you like it if you lost your ring fingers on both hands?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Do you realise the inconvenience of only having four fingers?" Altair asked incredulously, "I can't cup water, I can't do Cat's Cradle properly, I can't even wear a ring!"

"…you _do_ have four other fingers to wear-"

"That's not the point! The point is, why would I? The Order only asked for one finger, I wasn't about to suggest they take the other one, just to be symmetrical!" He said finally, before turning his attention back to his food, clearly done with this conversation.

I shrugged, "It was just a question."

"Well stop asking stupid questions," He replied, not looking up.

I rolled my eyes. "I had no idea it was such a sensitive topic."

At that moment, Malik entered the room, having recovered from his severe burn. He glared, "Are you two layabouts going to sit around here all day? Or are you going to go and actually assassinate de Sable?" He demanded.

"We haven't even finished getting information!" I protested.

"Well hurry up and leave so you can do that." He amended.

"We'll be gone soon," Altair cut in, "but before we go, I thought you might like this," He reached down to under the table and pulled up Malik's mother's mirror, handing it to him.

"How did you get this? Did you steal it from me again?" He demanded, clutching the mirror possessively, "Haven't you done enough damage already?" He turned the mirror, to check for more knife-holes, but to his surprise found none. He gawked, "…is this the right mirror?"

Altair nodded, "Yeah, I stole it from your room last night and sanded it down, before reinforcing the back with more wood. Looks as good as new, doesn't it?" he replied proudly.

Malik was speechless.

I turned to the assassin, "Since when do you know carpentry?"

"Since when do I _not_ know carpentry?" he retaliated, finishing the last of his breakfast and picking up his hidden blade, buckling it back on, "Are you ready to go?"

I nodded, quickly scoffing a few spoonful's of the food, before standing up, "Where to next?"

"Not sure yet," he replied, standing up and buttoning up his robes, pulling the hood up, "But that mistress lead sounds like a good idea."

Malik finally found his voice, "…Thank you," he said quietly, before quickly departing from the room, hugging the mirror.

I exchanged a dubious look with Altair, "…he's not very good with words, is he?" I asked.

"Not when it's not an insult, no," Altair agreed.

I smiled at him, "What you did was nice, fixing the mirror."

The assassin shrugged, "I felt bad after seeing his reaction. I didn't think he'd care so much about an old mirror."

"Who knew Malik could be so sentimental?" I remarked.

"Not me," he agreed, "Well anyway, we'd better get going. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"But not as long as before, right? Since time is apparently passing like in the real world?" I reminded him.

"Even more reason to go now," he replied, leading me out the door.

* * *

The view from whatever building this was (random roof no. 14) was picturesque, as every view seemed to be, here in Jerusalem. It was like this city never had a bad day. It always looked like something fit for a post-card, no matter what angle. Unless of course, you were down in the streets with all the filth and people, but from the rooves it was amazing.

"So which way is this place Robert's mistress is being held?" I asked, turning to the contemplating assassin.

"That direction," he gestured out to the city, "I wish I knew where exactly, but without the mini map, it makes these things difficult."

I felt another pang of guilt, and fished out the mini map out of habit, turning it over in my pocket. How much longer was he going to keep bringing it up? So I made a mistake. It wasn't that unusual. People make mistakes all the time. I couldn't even count the number of times I had apologised.

I looked at the map, gazing sadly at its unresponsive screen…or at least that's what I had expected. To my surprise, instead of a dead, blank and useless screen, a thin white outline of the city glowed with numerous flashing icons.

I could hardly believe it. The mini map had resurrected.

"What are you looking at?" Altair asked, after several minutes of silence.

Speechlessly, I showed him the GPS device.

He gawked, "…I thought you said the mini map was broken."

"…I thought it was," I replied finally, "I guess it just needed time to dry off or something."

He smiled, "Well this changes everything."

"It does?"

"Yes. For one, I no longer plan to push you into the river again."

"…thanks," I remarked dryly.

"And now, we know exactly what we have to do next. We finally have direction. This is brilliant." He grinned, "Does it have the mistress on there?"

I studied the map, "Well, it has an Interrogation mission over in the area you gestured to. And if it's not her, then at least it's someone else we can get information from."

"Sounds good," he remarked, "Lead on."

"…me?"

"You're the one with the map," he shrugged.

Feeling the heady drunk feeling that comes with power, I grinned, "This way."

* * *

The blue-tiled building stood out amongst the sandy-coloured structures around it like a lotus springing out of the desert sand. Although the metaphor was deeply flawed as lotus (loti?) were aquatic flowers. But I didn't know the name of any desert flowers that weren't spinifex, and spinifex doesn't quite have the same ring to it. Maybe desert orchid…but I digress.

I glanced at Altair, who was standing observably at my side; watching the building intently. I noticed his glazed-over expression. He was using the Eagle Vision thingy. Once again, I envied his insight. Something like that must be pretty damn useful to just switch on and off when you need it. You'd never have to worry about someone unexpectedly stabbing you in the back again. You could spot enemies a mile away.

"See anything interesting?" I asked.

"There's a couple having sex on the second floor," he replied.

…or you could use it to spy on people's sex lives. "…would any of those people be Elise?" I asked hopefully.

"Elise is Robert's mistress, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Then no. This couple doesn't have a female."

"…so you're perving on two guys?"

Altair turned to glare at me, "I'm not watching them! You asked what I saw, and I told you. This building is huge. It's full of people!"

"Yet you point out the gays…"

He rolled his eyes, a move I took as a poor substitute for a proper rebuttle (because he didn't have one), and resumed staring eagle-like at the building.

"…are the gays at least templars?" I ventured.

"No, they're not," he said, "now stop asking me questions. Do you know how hard it is to identify people you've never met, based on coloured outline?"

"…very hard?" I suggested.

"So you do know. Now shut up so I can concentrate!" He stared intently at the building once more.

It was my turn to crank out the eye-rolling. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to give out a few _nice_ comments, now and then, instead of telling me off all the time."

"I don't tell you off all the time, I just like to keep the compliments for when they're properly earned," he replied, not taking his eyes off the building.

"Yeah well, I think I deserve one of them right about now."

"Oh really? What exactly have you done that would warrant one?"

I stood proudly, "I fixed the Mini Map."

"No, technically, it fixed itself," he replied, quite correctly.

"While I had it!" I added, as if it were a crucial component to the story.

"You can't take credit for that!" he argued.

"Why not?"

Before he could answer, a solitary arrow flew past my ear. Altair grabbed me and threw us down, flat against the roof. No arrows followed, so I sighed in relief. "That was close."

"Too close," Altair agreed, "We'd better get moving."

"But we don't even know where Elise is in!" I pointed out.

"Tobias said third window from the left on the top floor. We'll just have to hope she's still in her room," Altair recalled, adding, "And as a mistress, at this time in the morning, I say there's a good chance of that."

"You don't think Robert will be in there with her, do you?"

"No. I didn't see any cluster of red guards in the building. Robert has probably already gone to do…whatever it is he does on a day-to-day basis."

"Probably a lot of evil plotting. And scheming," I added, ever so helpfully.

Altair gave me that weird look he did when he thought I was being ridiculous. Which coincidentally, I had been seeing more frequently. "…yes. Well at any rate, he's not here. So now is the perfect time to pay her a visit."

"Ok," I nodded determinedly, "…but what exactly do you mean by 'pay her a visit'?"

"…I mean, interrogate her, obviously," Altair replied, obviously.

"Interrogate her and then leave?" I asked, hopefully.

"…yes, leave. After we kill her, of course." He added, like I'd hoped he wouldn't.

"Altair!" I whined, reminding myself of a petulant child whinging at her mother for getting the wrong type of cereal.

"No, enough messing around. The funeral is tomorrow. We need to do this properly. And properly means leaving no trail."

"I'm fairly sure a bloody corpse is a pretty significant trail," I pointed out.

"Yes, but corpses don't talk," he countered.

"Yes, but," I rebuttled again, "Wouldn't killing Robert's mistress send a pretty clear message that we're on to him? I thought we were supposed to be discrete."

Altair looked at me sternly, before replying eloquently, "Shut up. I'm in charge here, so we do things my way."

I rolled my eyes. Why were men so stubborn to admit they were wrong? Whatever happened to logic and reason- oh, and now he's gone.

Altair waved from the next roof, "Hurry up!" he called.

I guessed there would be no time for contemplation. I quickly jumped the short gap between rooves and joined him as we made our way closer to the building; off to kill yet another innocent person who simply knew too much.

* * *

After taking out a few patrolling guards, Altair led us onto the roof of the blue mosaicked building. I waited, hiding in the shade of the chimney, waiting for him to find a safe way in and call me over. Moments later, he reappeared from the side of the building.

"Come on. The window here is open and the room is empty. We can enter through here," he gestured to come over.

I hesitated, "Are you sure it's safe? That sounds far too easy."

Altair sighed, clearly not sharing my concerns, "What are you talking about?"

"It's too easy!" I repeated, "It's probably some sort of ambush."

Altair ducked down into the room, before reappearing moments later, "The halls are clear. There's no ambush."

"But-"

"Look, I'm going in. You can either come with me, or stay up here with the patrolling archers," he suggested.

I eyed the guards wearily, "Well, when you put it that way…"

I followed Altair over the edge of the roof, swinging myself (quite inelegantly) into the room. He was right. It was empty and there was no sound of approaching guards. "Where to now?" I asked the assassin.

"We're a whole floor higher than we need to be," he started, "so firstly, I'd suggest we find some stairs. But the room should be on this side of the building, and if the floor plans are the same on each level, in the room right across the hall from this one."

"So one floor down and across the hall?" I summarised, unnecessarily.

"Yes, that's what I just said."

"I know. Just confirming."

"Well don't," he scolded, "We seem to do far too much talking. We're wasting time."

Suddenly, I heard sharp clanging footsteps, like the sound of metal hitting stone, quickly moving up the hall. Without much time to think, I tackled Altair out of view from the open doorway and onto the bed. And just in time too. Moments later, a heavily armed Templar soldier ran past, before disappearing, his steps gradually fading away.

Several moments after it had passed into the awkward stage, I climbed off the assassin. "Halls were clear, you say?" I added, just to break the silence.

It was probably my imagination, but I thought I saw him blushing slightly, "…they looked clear."

"Of course they did," I slid off the four-poster bed, straightening out my assassin robes, "but from now on, we should be extra cautious. Extra extra cautious even."

"Ok," Altair agreed, climbing off the bed, "but this doesn't mean you get to shove me into walls or onto beds again."

I smirked. Not so fun when _you're_ the one being pushed down, is it? "Sorry. That was a reflex."

"Of course it was," he replied, pulling his hood back up.

"But you have to admit that was a pretty good tackle."

Altair rolled his eyes. "Come on. Elise is waiting, not that she knows it."

* * *

**OMG I did it. I got in a chapter before Christmas. Speaking of which, Merry Christmas :D For those of you who celebrate it, anyway. And if you don't, I hope you have an awesome holiday, be it school, religious or both. And just in case I can't get another one in before then, Happy New Year. 2011 is looking to be very promising. Already, I have a weekend trip to Sydney planned (for a con, of course. Cos I'm a nerd like that). All I gotta do now is earn the cash…**

**Anyway, thanks so much for the huge response I got last chapter. You guys are really the best. The best, I say! I love you all. **

**And yeah, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And if you're wondering what to get me for Christmas, all I really want is a nicely packaged review. With a ribbon! Or just the review…**

**Until next time, Happy Holidays, and stay safe :D**


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The blue mosaicked building was quite unlike anything else I had ever seen in the game so far. Apart from its stunning architecture and colour scheme, it was also rather innovative. Whilst hiding from a sizable cluster of guards, we had jumped into what appeared to be a bathroom. I had instantly felt the warm floor through my soft leather boots, and further inspection had revealed that the floor was indeed heated. While the technology to heat floor probably would've been present at this time, my school history studies had mainly focused on ancient Rome and Greece, and so I couldn't be sure if having it here in this bastardised version of 12th century Jerusalem was historically accurate or not.

Once the chatter of the latest set of guards disappeared down the hall, Altair lead us back out.

"Wouldn't it be more assassiny to, you know, actually assassinate some of these guards, rather than hiding like a common thief?" I asked.

"No," Altair replied sternly, "because, a) assassinating all these guards is simply impractical, b) would attract too much attention, from the pile of bodies, if not the noise, and c) assassiny is not a word."

"Wow, using grammar as an excuse. How assassiny," I remarked.

Altair rolled his eyes. "Come on. We've already made it downstairs. Elise's room should be close."

"Aye aye captain, but in which direction are we headed?" I asked, "All this jumping and hiding has completely confused my usually flawless sense of direction."

Altair looked like he could've laughed, "flawless? I suppose that's one word."

I scowled, "Shut up. And you didn't answer my question."

Altair poked his head out the door, examining the hallway. "Well, since the staircase we came down is there, I'd think the room we need to go to is…right in front of us."

"Well that was easy," I couldn't help but point out.

"Don't start going on about it's so easy it must be an ambush. You're starting to sound paranoid," he replied, "besides, I wouldn't exactly call this whole exercise easy. I lost count of all the times we were nearly caught."

"…I suppose. There are a surprising amount of people running around here," I conceded.

"Exactly. So while the halls are actually clear for once, do you think we could stop wasting time and actually go interrogate Elise? It's _only_ the whole reason we're here."

"Ok ok, no need to be snippy. Lead on," I said quickly.

Without any more hesitation, Altair took one last glance down the hall before stepping out and stepping up to the door. One hand on the ornate handle, he put his ear to the wood, listening for…something, I presume. Moments later, he glanced back at me and nodded, in what I assumed was supposed to be some sort of signal he had forgotten to explain earlier. I nodded back, not really knowing why, and stepped out of the empty bedroom. The assassin turned back to the door and turned the handle, slowly pushing it open.

Elise's room was expensively decorated, as was to be expected considering her position. While women in this time weren't exactly seen as equals, mistresses of powerful men were lavished with riches and…gold-leafed wallpaper, apparently. But amongst all the over-the-top trappings and almost blinding reflection of gold decorations was a large four poster bed. No prizes for guessing why it was the centre piece of the whole visual feast that was the room. But it was what we found gently snoring on said bed that was most relevant for us.

I followed Altair closely as we stalked into the room, having closed the door behind us. Elise was what you might expect a concubine to look like. She was obviously pretty, with delicate features. Unfortunately, those delicate features were suffering from a major case of 'cake-face'. I guess Robert likes them clown-like. All she was missing was a red plastic nose.

"Do we wake her up?" I whispered to Altair.

"Well we're hardly going to get any information out of her while she's sleeping," he muttered back, "Unless she starts snoring in morse code or something."

"Oh, that would be so cool."

I could see him roll his eyes from under his hood.

"So…how are we going to wake her up?" I asked, "Throw a cup of water on her face? Poke her awake? Sit there with a knife hovered over her face and wait for her to wake up normally, so when she does, she practically craps herself?"

"…what? No! Those are all stupid ideas."

"Then what are we going to do?"

Elise groaned and flickered her eyes open.

"…talk until the noise disturbs her," Altair was quick to step forward and put a hand over mouth, preventing the clearly freaked-out woman from screaming.

And really, who could blame her for trying? Being woken up only to find two strangers hovering over you, and dressed in assassin robes no less. I felt sorry for her. But business was business.

I tried to smile warmly, "Hello. Elise, right?"

Altair looked up, "Let me handle the talking."

I held my hands up and backed away, "By all means then, go."

Altair glanced back at the panicky woman, "…are you Elise?"

She nodded, her eyes frantic. She was clearly terrified.

"I don't think your usual techniques are going to work," I advised Altair.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's a girl. Your usual combo of threats and roughing up isn't really appropriate here," I protested, "Or necessary."

After a few moments hesitation, Altair rolled his eyes and focused back on Elise, "We're not here to hurt you. We just need information."

From the way her eyes were welling up, I could see Elise wasn't convinced. I sat down next to her on the bed.

"We're trying to take out Robert. We were told you might be willing to help. He's the guy you…service, right?" I hoped relating to her as a fellow woman might help.

She nodded, which was difficult with Altair's hand over her mouth. He seemed to sense it too. "If you promise not to scream, I'll let you go. We just want to talk."

Altair's seldom-seen calm and reasonable voice seemed to work. She nodded once more, and as promised, he released her head, stepping back. The mistress wiped her eyes with the palm of her hands, smearing her makeup. "Who are you?" she asked fearfully.

"We're assassins, on a mission to find the Piece of Eden before the Templars," I announced proudly. I could see Altair glare at me in my peripherals. Were we _not_ supposed to give out our secret mission statement in interrogations?

"…really? What's the Piece of Eden?" she asked, confused.

"That's not important. What's important is that you give us information," Altair jumped in quickly.

She shrugged, "What do you want to know?"

"What do you know about Robert's plans for the funeral? What is he planning?" Altair asked, getting back to business and attempting to keep the menace out of his voice. A real struggle, I'm sure.

Elise shook her head, "I don't know. I'm just a mistress, he doesn't tell me these things."

I could see Altair start to get frustrated, so I jumped in, "Surely you'd know something. Anything about his work. Maybe he likes to gloat after sex?" I suggested.

"Only about how good he thinks he was. But in reality, I've had to fake it more times than I can count," she revealed.

I smirked, my undeniable eagerness for gossip intrigued; "Really now?"

She nodded, smirking slightly, "I've seen jackals better hung than him."

"Well this is all just _fascinating_," Altair interrupted, clearly not finding this info on Robert's sex life as interesting as I was, "but it is completely irrelevant. Do you know anything at all about the funeral?"

She seemed to think for a moment, "…I may have something that could be useful."

I grinned at Altair as Elise got up and walked over to her vanity table, opening a draw and pulling out a piece of folded parchment. "I stole this from his office a few days ago when I was looking for some spare paper," she handed it to Altair, "I don't know if it's helpful, but I thought it was interesting."

Altair opened up the parchment to reveal an undeniable map of the rich district, and the buildings where the funeral was to be held, to be specific. And marked on the map were distinct black crosses.

"This is a map of where de Sable and his guards will be stationed," Altair interpreted incredulously.

I could barely believe it either, "Wow, really? Seems like we've really hit the jackpot."

"So you're really going to kill Robert?" Elise asked, sitting back down on the bed.

"That's the plan, yeah," I nodded.

"Thank god," she sighed.

"…I take it you don't like him?"

She shook her head, "he's violent, unreasonable and a selfish lover. I used to be the top prostitute at the Desert Nights brothel. _I_ had _my_ pick of the clients. This sort of treatment is just not on."

"…wow, top prostitute?"

"I was the best. Men would come all the way from Acre just to see me."

"That's impressive," I remarked.

Altair was still studying the map, "If we come in from the south side, we should be able to utilise this gap in the guards…"

"So Elise, what do you think you'll do once we kill Robert?" I asked, enjoying this opportunity to finally talk to another girl.

"Well, if I can get out of here without being caught, I'll probably go into hiding in Damascus. I have connections there."

"What'll happen if you're caught?"

"I'll be killed," she replied bluntly.

"…wh-"

"If Robert is killed, the Templar's backup plan is to kill everyone connected to him so his predecessor can start afresh. And that includes his mistresses."

"…well that seems a bit harsh," I remarked sympathetically, "And wasteful."

Elise shrugged, "it is their way."

Altair finally finished with the map and rolled it up, tucking it away into one of his many pockets, "Ok, is there any more information you have that may be useful?"

Elise shook her head, "As I said before, he doesn't tell me anything about his work and that's all I have of his."

"So we're done here?" I glanced at Altair for confirmation.

"Almost," he replied, flicking out his hidden bladein an all-too-familiar move.

"Hold on, I gave you what you wanted." Elise said quickly, backing away.

"Yeah, she was very helpful," I pointed out.

Altair glanced at me sternly, "You know the rules. She knows too much, especially after your little chat."

I swallowed. Great, so it's _my_ fault that Elise has to die. But wait, maybe it's my talkativeness that can also save her.

Elise backed away further, knocking over perfume bottles and brushes as she walked into the dressing table.

"But Altair, let's just stop for a minute to consider what we're doing," I tried to buy some time.

"We're making sure this exchange can never get back to Robert. It would greatly hurt the mission if it did," he replied, not taking his eyes off the target of the moment.

"Yes, but do you really think she'd tell him? Quite clearly she hates Robert, perhaps as much as we do," I pointed out.

"And you really think she's being entirely truthful here? Look at how easily she volunteered information. And any prostitute worth their salt can act."

I glanced back at Elise. Had she really been lying the whole time? Was she really just saying all that to gain my trust? Damn my willingness to trust perfect strangers.

"I swear to you I'd give anything for Robert to die," she pleaded, "I'm not working with him. Please, spare my life!"

"I can't take that chance," Altair replied, stepping forward and grabbing the front of her shirt, pulling her within stabbing range.

I saw as her eyes welled up fearfully. Sweat ran down her forehead and her pupils were massively dilated. If all those episodes of '_Lie to me_' had taught me anything, it's that this woman was showing all the signs of being terrified. And my intuition told me to trust her.

I stepped up, "Please, Altair. I think she's telling the truth. You don't need to do this!"

He looked back at me irritably. "I told you last time; it's part of the Creed to cover your tracks. Despite what you think, it's too dangerous to let her live."

"But just look at her! Do you really have to kill her, like you did all those other interrogation victims? It's not her fault she has to sleep with the enemy!"

Altair seemed to fully register Elise for the first time, as if some sort of emotionless veil that usually allowed him to mercilessly take the lives of others had been lifted.

His expression softened. He seemed almost regretful, "…We can't jeopardise the mission. I don't see what other options we have."

I stepped forward again, "There are always other options…and if we can't think of any in the next five minutes, then you can kill her. Let's just take a moment to think about it, ok?" I put my hand on his, not-so-subtly prying his fingers off Elise.

My little speech seemed to work, as moments later he released her, dropping the woman back onto the bed.

Elise curled up, thoroughly shaken by her brush with death but too afraid to run and seemingly unsure about what to do next.

"You realise we're taking a huge risk here, going against standard procedure," Altair reminded me.

"I know,"

"I don't like this,"

"I know,"

"How are we going to make sure she doesn't just go running off to de Sable?" he asked me.

"We could always just trust her not to,"

Altair looked at me as if I was crazy. "Trust her? Do you realise what you're saying? Why should we trust her? And why would she listen to us?"

I sat down next to Elise_._ "Have a little faith, Altair. Besides," I glanced at Elise, "you know that if you _did_ say anything, we'd find a way to come back and finish this, right?"

She nodded quickly.

"I mean, even if we're dead, the Brotherhood would send more assassins. They'd hunt you down like a dog. Not even Robert and the Templars would be able to protect you. You'd never be safe again," I continued, driving my point home.

"Yes, I understand," she nodded quickly, "And I wouldn't say anything to him anyway. I long for day his lifeless corpse is strung up like an ugly tapestry."

I grinned. "See, we can trust her," I told Altair cheerfully.

But Altair didn't seem as convinced, "…I'd still be happier if we killed her."

I sighed, "Not everything needs to be solved with blades, you know. It's thinking like yours that starts wars."

"In case you've forgotten, we're in the middle of a war. Against the Templars. Of which this woman is in their service. Excuse me if letting a potentially dangerous person live doesn't sit well with me," he explained, before adding, "or the Creed, which we're supposed to be following, I might add."

I glanced back Elise, who had resumed looking fearful. It was pretty clear she had no desire to just sit back and die. Yet Altair demanded her blood as insurance for her silence. Surely there was a way to make both people happy…

"Elise, how often does Robert come to you?" I asked suddenly, an idea forming in my mind.

"Every morning, usually. He spends his nights with one of the other mistresses."

"He has other mistresses?"

"There are three of us in total. But the other two wouldn't be of any use to you. One's a mute and the other a child they picked up off the streets. She can't even read."

I ignored the news that Robert was apparently also a paedophile and focused on the plan, "Do you think he'll still come to you tomorrow morning?"

She shook her head, "No, he said something about needing get ready for the Funeral. Joked about me having a day off. Ha! I can't even leave this building. The bastard."

"So…if you're not here tomorrow, you won't be missed?"

"...I suppose not," she conceded, "look, if you're going to kill me, can you at least do it painlessly? Surely my cooperation has earned me that much."

"That can be arranged," Altair remarked, flicking out his hidden blade again.

"Hold it, Stabby," I pushed his hand away, "I think there may be another way to make you disappear, _with_ your life, and without you in a position to rat us out to the Templars."

Altair shot me a wary look, "You'd better not be about to suggest another-"

"I think we should smuggle her out of the city," I announced finally.

Elise clapped her hands together, "You'd really do that? Oh, I like this idea."

The assassin sighed, "We really don't have time for this."

"Sure we do. The funeral isn't until tomorrow. And the nearest gate is only a few blocks away. It would be much easier than Tobias' troupe of offspring. It would take an hour, max."

"And a simple stab through the heart would take less than a minute," he countered.

"Yes, but then there's always a chance her body would be found by a maid or something, right Elise?" I glanced at her for confirmation.

"Definitely. Anyone could walk into my room for some reason. And finding my corpse would attract far more suspicion that simply not finding me at all," she replied, probably making all that up for all I knew, but it was Altair she needed to convince.

"Then it's settled, we'll smuggle Elise out of the building and to the gate," I concluded finally.

Altair sighed, massaging his temples. He was outnumbered. "Fine. But if this doesn't work, I'm never listening to you again."

"Deal," I grinned. I had no idea why he was listening to me now, but I loved the power.

* * *

I waved to the brown-robed Elise as she rode away on a chestnut mare. I liked Elise. If we'd met under different circumstances or for more than an hour, I reckon we would've been good friends. And she was an ex prostitute. I'd always wanted one of them as a friend. I imagine they had the most interesting stories.

"Are you satisfied?" Altair asked. I could hear the resentment in his voice.

"Very," I replied, "we ensured the silence of an interrogation victim without resorting to violence, and we have one kick-arse map. I think we practically have everything we need now to go and take out Robert at the Funeral."

"We still don't know what exactly he's planning," Altair reminded me.

"And what are the chances that we'll find that out from anyone _but_ Robert himself? I think we should be happy with what we have."

"I suppose…are there any more information missions on the mini map?" he asked.

I pulled it out gladly. It was still a thrill to have it working again. I didn't have to constantly feel guilty and make up excuses anymore. "There are only three icons left on the map. One of them the bureau, one that looks like a pickpocketing mission and the third…" I brought the screen closer to my face, squinting, "…I can't tell. But it's something. We should probably check it out."

Altair nodded, "Which is the closest?"

"The unknown mission. It's a only few streets away."

"Lead on then."

Mini map in hand, I jumped off the straw wagon and past the unmanned gate, dodging down an alley as a small patrol of guards walked past. There was a light thump against the wall next to me as Altair followed. Checking the coast was clear, we stalked out of the alley and back into the main streets. We blended in with the crowd as we walked, following the flashing icon on the map. I wondered what it could be. Another 'save citizen'? Maybe one of those merchant-stand destruction missions I'd heard about, although those were only supposed to be on the PC version of the game. The destination alley came up and I pulled Altair around the sharp corner.

I slowed to a halt, "…this is where it's supposed to be. But there's nothing here. I don't understand."

Altair put a finger to his lips and took a few more steps forward, scanning the dark alley.

"What do you think is-"

"Shush! Can't you read signals at all?" Altair demanded.

Before I could defend myself, a large red blur jumped out from a dark niche in the wall and grabbed Altair around the throat. I stood frozen, watching as the assassin struggled to free himself from the Templar Knight. Finally, Altair managed to elbow the knight in the stomach, causing him to release him. He dropped to the ground, gasping for air. The Templar, recovering much faster than him, pulled out his sword.

In a rare moment of clarity, I remembered the bow and quiver I'd been lugging around all day and grabbed an arrow. Fumbling slightly, I managed to fit it on the bow and quickly pulled back and released in the general direction ahead of me without really aiming (probably not the smartest idea ever).

The arrow flew up and embedded itself in the wooden wall of the building. Not exactly the Templar's bulging belly like I had hoped, but it caused enough of a distraction for the knight to duck and for Altair to roll away, getting back to his feet and pulling out his own sword.

Leaping forward, Altair swung his sword against the templar's. From my game-playing days, I remember these battles as the most difficult. These almost-elite knights really made you work for the achievement of killing them all. The amount of times I had died trying with just one…

But Altair, it seemed, didn't have nearly as much trouble on his own. After watching them clash steel on steel for a few moments, the assassin finally won the advantage and knocked the templar's sword from his hand. Without hesitation, he stepped in and skewered the man through the chest, pulling back and letting him fall to the ground unceremoniously. For all our joking around and conversations, I had almost forgotten Altair was a highly-trained killer. It was moments like these that brought no doubt to that fact.

"Well, that solves the mystery of 'What's on the Mini Map?'" I remarked as he cleaned his sword and put it back in the hilt.

"That should be the last of those guys," he replied.

"In Jerusalem?"

"No, everywhere. Or in the game, at least."

"Oh, cool….but where's the achievement pop-up?" I asked.

"Did you really expect it up show up here?"

"…maybe a little bit."

Altair rolled his eyes, "So where's this pickpocket mission supposed to start?"

* * *

**Hey guys. Happy 2011. I dunno about you, but I've been having a fun new year. And now the next chapter is ready. Huzzah. The end is in sight. I'm actually excited about it. This whole story has been a huge undertaking and I'll be nice to finally finish something I've started. **

**Fun fact: the original second half the Elise conversation featured a pretty nifty Bioshock reference. But as I wrote that months ago, and since then the mood of the interrogation changed significantly and that exchange and reference didn't fit anymore. But it doesn't matter. It wasn't really that good a use of a reference anyway. I'm must happier with this version anyway. **

**That's all for now. Thanks so much for the funtasmagorical reviews (and send some more maybe please? ^^;) and I'll see you all on the next chapter **


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The pickpocket mission had yielded the final piece of the puzzle. A group memo, assumedly sent out from Robert's own desk, to alert his men of the proceedings for the funeral and his exact position during the ceremony. It was as if the Good Luck Fairy was watching over us. She was my favourite fairy. Maybe she's in league with the Pocket Gods.

A pot-carrier walked past, obliviously carrying her load, looking only ahead, completely focused on her task. Perhaps her singular determination was a lesson for all of us. Something about success coming from ignoring all distractions or something. Or maybe she was just an emotionless NPC drone who was only programmed to walk around with a pot on her head. With the lines between game and reality blurring, it was getting harder to tell.

I turned to Altair on the bench next to me. "So…we just hanging here or is there a reason we're sitting here listening to the same fountain in the same courtyard we've seen a billion times before?"

Altair was busy staring off into the distance. I waved my hand in front of his face, "Hello?"

Finally, he spoke, "I've been thinking…"

"You? Thinking? Never!"

"Ha ha," he rolled his eyes, "but seriously, I've been thinking about what happened with Elise…"

"Oh?"

"And you were right."

Ah, my four favourite words in the English language. "Was I?"

"The Creed has three directives; don't harm the innocent, be discreet, and do not compromise the Brotherhood," he explained, "I was so caught up with the last two, I forgot about the first one."

I could sense a revelation coming on, "Really now?"

"Elise, and really many of the people I've interrogated, were functionally innocent. Most of them simply happened to stumble across the information or were friends of friends of people working with Templars. They didn't do anything wrong. They were innocent. Yet I killed them all anyway."

"…well you didn't kill Elise, so I suppose that's something."

"No, I would've killed her. I was going to. But I didn't, only because you stopped me."

Well that was something to think about.

He cleared his throat and continued, "What you did, in there…you reminded me of someone."

…ok, was I supposed to guess who? Was this some sort of game? I was tempted to say his mother.

Instead, I asked, "Who did I remind you of?"

"Malik,"

Well, that's an answer I hadn't expected. I couldn't decide if it was a compliment or an insult. "Um, ok…"

"Back when we were in the temple…he reminded me of that first rule, to not harm the innocent. I didn't listen to him. I killed the old man. I was insolent, and I cost him his arm and his brother," he recalled.

Yes, I remembered that cut-scene well. I'd watched it over and over on youtube just to see Kadar. I seemed to have a thing for characters who are killed off at the start of video games. Kadar in here, Prince Calin and Davreth in Dragon Age…the king voiced by Liam Nieson in Oblivion. "But that was all in the past. Ages ago," I added.

"That almost happened today. The only difference is you're more charismatic than Malik…or Elise is a woman," he mused, "I'm not sure. One of the two. Or maybe both."

"…just gonna throw it out there, but could it also be because _I_ am a woman?" I suggested.

"What did you think I meant by charismatic?"

"…it's the boobs, isn't it? That's what you're really trying to say."

"What I'm trying to say is irrelevant. The point is…the point…dammit, now I can only think of your…chest."

I grinned, "Hypnotic, aren't they? –wait, no, that's my fault. You should've told me the robes were coming undone!" I quickly retied the robes, covering up my chest again.

"…I thought it was obvious."

"Obviously it wasn't."

"Anyway…what was I saying?"

"You were talking about how it's significant that I stopped you from killing Elise, and how you were wrong and I was right…and then you compared me to Malik," I recapped.

"Right. Well anyway, the point is…thank you."

It was just how I liked my points; Short, sweet, and right to the- well, you know what I mean.

"…You're welcome," I replied somewhat cautiously.

"You've been a real asset to the mission," he continued.

I couldn't help but smile at that. Considering my otherwise uselessness in this adventure, I was honoured that he actually considered something I did helpful.

"I…I don't know where I'd be without you." He concluded, in probably the most heartfelt moment I'd seen from him ever.

I smiled, "Probably still at the game store."

Altair smiled back, in what was probably the most genuine and heart-warming moment we've ever shared…unfortunately, that moment was completely ruined by a large feathery projectile crashing into my head.

I blinked as stars circled my head, the world around me spinning, "Who the hell threw that?"

When my vision stopped making me feel nauseated, I looked up to see Altair scratching under the chin of a large smug eagle perched on his gauntleted arm. I glared. "That's him!"

"That's who?" he asked, not looking away from the bird.

"That's the blasted eagle which made me drop the mini map off the bridge," I protested, "And pushed me off the view-point."

"Don't be stupid. Talon is one of my most trusted companions," Altair dismissed, "He wouldn't do those things,"

The eagle smiled smugly, which was amazing considering he was an eagle with a beak he couldn't physically move like that, I could just tell he was being smug. Bloody bird. "I swear to you he did! And what kind of name is Talon? Originality much?"

Altair shrugged, "It made sense when I was sixteen."

I dusted myself off and got to my feet, "and what do you mean 'companion'? How do you know this bird?"

"Assassins have always used birds for various things; sending letters, finding previously unattained view points, killing the rats in the cellar," Altair pulled out a dead mouse from a pouch and threw it up for Talon, who swiftly plucked it out of the air with his…well, talons. I cringed as he tore the mouse's head off. "They're very useful creatures. And highly intelligent."

I felt the nausea come back as mouse guts dropped to the floor, "Have you been keeping that dead mouse on you the entire time?"

Altair shrugged, "It's what Talon eats."

"I was wondering what that smell was…"

"Have you found anything, Talon?" the assassin asked the bird, the second time in the past week I'd seen him talking to animals. Someone needs to get this boy some human friends.

The eagle extended one of its legs out, showing the gold chain tangled around its foot. "My necklace!" I exclaimed, "I thought that was lost in the fountain forever!"

Altair untangled the chain and dropped it into my waiting hands. "He must've seen something shiny and picked it up. Pretty lucky, isn't it?"

"Ok, I take back what I said," I replied, putting the necklace back around my neck, "that bird's pretty cool, even if he did try to kill me twice now."

Talon cawed proudly, as if he was gloating at his assassination attempts. Fitting, I suppose, for the companion of an assassin, but I guess no one ever explained to him the rule against team-killing.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out the Mini map, checking for our next task. To my surprise, it was blank. Not blank as in broken (again), but blank as in there were no more info missions left. Only the blinking symbol of the Bureau was left on the outline of the city.

"Wow…I think we're done here," I remarked.

"Done?"

"We've found out all we can. All that's left is to check in with Malik and go kill Robert."

"Finally. It feels like we've been running around this city for days."

"That's because we have," I replied.

"Well, it's far too long. The sooner we get back to Malik, the sooner I can stab Robert through the chest," he stood up, Talon shuffling to his shoulder, "Let's head back."

* * *

As we jumped through the lattice roof and into the Assassins Bureau for the final time, I felt almost nostalgic that this would probably be one of the final times I could come here. No more harassing Malik. No more fun but tiring assassin training. No more sleeping on the uncomfortable sleeping rugs. …ok, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing I wouldn't be coming back. Oh wait, the funeral isn't until tomorrow. Well, still, this would be my last day in this place. Nostalgia just came 12 hours early.

Malik looked up as we entered. "What is it this time?"

"We're done," I grinned.

"Done?"

Altair pulled out all the bits of information we had collected over the past few days; the notes we had written down from the eavesdroppers, the pancake note we had intercepted from the first pickpocket mission, the two maps, including the one from Elise, and everything else.

"I believe strongly that we have everything needed to take out Robert," Altair commented as Malik read through the info.

"Yes, I suppose you do," Malik eventually agreed.

I wondered if it would be appropriate to do a jig at this moment. I decided not, so settled for a mental jig instead. Do do do~

"So tomorrow will be assassination day?" I asked for confirmation.

Malik nodded, "Yes, tomorrow you and Altair will finally go after Robert de Sable."

Altair simply nodded soberly. I suppose it would be a kinda heartless thing to be excited at the prospect of killing someone, but I was just glad that soon this whole ordeal would be over. Not that I didn't enjoy running around an ancient civilisation with a disgruntled assassin, but it was incredibly tiring. Not to mention all the death. I shuddered to think how many times I would've died if it weren't for Altair.

"You can rest here for the rest of the day," Malik continued, interrupting my thoughts, "Or wander through the town, although I would advise against it considering the increased number of Templars patrolling around."

"Yeah, we already ran into a particularly mean one earlier," I remarked.

Malik gave me an odd look, "…I think it's safe to assume that _all_ Templars are mean."

I could tell he was mocking me, "He came right out and attacked Altair!"

He shrugged, "Altair is the enemy. Of course he was going to do that."

"But still…he could've at least warned us first."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Well, anyway, I have business to attend to out here, so please occupy yourselves elsewhere."

I glanced at Altair.

"Come on, we can go over your training for tomorrow," Altair suggested, leading us to the back rooms.

* * *

We'd woken up early the next morning, the weight of the task ahead of us clearly weighing down on Altair. Not that he was exactly talkative or cheery normally, but he seemed, if it were possible, even quieter and more sober than usual. He didn't even look up at my feeble attempts at humour. I don't think it was fear or hesitation that drove his behaviour. I think it was more the knowledge that if he failed to kill Robert today, the consequences could be dire indeed. There was more riding on this than our own lives. Everyone's lives would be affected, most likely for the worse.

As we walked through the door into the main front room of the Assassin's Bureau, Altair approached Malik's bench purposefully. I hung back silently, sensing what was about to happen would only be impeded by my involvement.

Altair coughed as he reached the bench, getting Malik's attention. "Malik, before we go, I need to say something."

Malik put down his quill and looked up, seemingly as surprised at Altair's sudden solemnity as I was. "What is it?"

He hesitated before continuing, "…I've been a fool."

"I'm glad you're finally admitting it, but why are you bringing it up now?"

"All this time…I never apologised, for what happened, in the caves. I was too damn proud and stubborn. And because of that, you lost your arm….you lost Kadar," I'd never seen Altair so sincere, "I know that I'll never be able to make up for all that. And I hope you know I miss him too. And I'm sorry."

Malik took a few moments to process this information, before finally replying, "I don't accept your apology."

Altair nodded, sighing sadly, "I understand."

"No, you don't. I don't accept your apology because you are not the same man who went with me into Solomon's Temple," he explained, "I've seen your work, seen you, these past few days. You're a changed man. Gone is the buttheadedness and pride. You're letting yourself be told what to do by a teenage girl. You're a completely different Altair to the one I knew."

I couldn't help but smile at my mention.

Altair, it seemed, hadn't been expecting this turn of events at all, "…Malik-"

"If I hadn't been so envious of you back then, I wouldn't have let myself be so careless," he continued, "I would've made more an effort to stop you. I am just as much to blame for what happened as you are."

Altair shook his head, "No, you can't say such things."

"We are brothers, Altair," Malik insisted, "We share the glory of victory as well as the pain of defeat. The highs and the lows. The good times and the bad. In this way we grow closer, we grow stronger."

What happened next would have to be the most deserving, yet unexpected, bro-fist bump I'd ever seen. Followed by a manly hug. I grinned. For all the seemingly irreparable stresses in their friendship, at the end of the day, it was a heartfelt apology that was the key to fixing it all.

Altair smiled, "Thank you Malik…brother."

"All you need to do now is start making out and this'll be exactly like half the AtMal fanfics on the internet," I mused aloud.

Altair and Malik both turned to stare at me, their gazes a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. Altair stepped back from the bench good measure.

I smiled innocently. Yep, that's me. Making conversations awkward since 1101.

Finally, Altair coughed, "…anyway. We should get going."

"Yes, you need to hurry up and kill Robert," Malik added, fiddling with his quill.

"Will do," Altair nodded, before gesturing me to follow and walking out the door.

I grinned at Malik, "See you after the funeral."

"Just try not to get yourself killed," he replied, "Or Altair. This is serious business."

"I know," I nodded seriously, "I'll try my best."

"Try harder," he replied as I walked out the door. I waved to him before disappearing from the doorway and climbing up to the exit.

After struggling to the roof, I took my place standing solemnly out at the city.

Altair glanced at me, before remarking, "It's business time."

* * *

**Woah, chapter 29. And the big assassination next chapter. That shall be interesting. **

**Yes, the last conversation was based on the game convo, but changed and expanded a bit. And if you can get the Flight of the Conchords reference, you are awesome. **

**This chapter was delayed a bit from my purchase and consequent playing of Fable 3. Which is awesome fun. A little short and slightly disappointing in some ways, but still fun. Plus, John Cleese butler. 3**

**Well anyway, that's all from me for now. Thanks so much for your continued support and reviews. And since I'm taking the ending to this a different direction to the game, why not send a review speculating what's going to happen next?**

**Or just a regular review. ;p**


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

I sat perched on a headstone towards the back of the funeral proceedings. There was a fairly dense crowd gathered as the unknown person presided over the ceremony, Robert De Sable standing helmeted at his side. I glanced at the assassin next to me, "do we attack him now?"

"No," Altair replied, not taking his eyes off the target, "too many people in the way."

"…so when do we attack him?"

"As soon as it ends. People will shuffle out and then we will make our move."

I nodded and looked back at the speaker. He was making some fancy speech about what a loss it was and what a great man the dead guy was; the typical funeral affair. I always found it funny how these speakers talked about the deceased like they were best friends, when usually they'd only met post-mortem. At least that was the case with priests and other religious equivalents. I started to wonder if this man in particular had ever met the dead guy. In my head, they had been secret gay lovers. I imagined Mr Speaker unnoticeably tearing up, planning to spend the night crying, drinking and probably wanking the pain away.

Yep, even boring religious ceremonies can be made interesting with a little imagination.

A random peasant coughed and shuffled on his spot to my right. It then occurred to me that what this funeral was missing was chairs. If it were even possible for these game people to bend at the knees, I'm sure they might appreciate taking a load off their probably aching feet, from the constant standing and walking I had seen them do since I got here.

"Do you think you'd rather be buried whole or cremated when you die?" I asked Altair suddenly.

He glared at me in that condescending way he might when reprimanding a child, "Quiet. This is hardly the time or place."

"Well actually, considering we're in a funeral," I continued, "I think it's a reasonable question."

He proceeded to ignore me and focus back on the speaker. I sighed, my eyes beginning to wander again, looking for something new to keep my interest. It was this kind of banality that stopped me going to church in the first place. I wondered if this is what an ADHD kid felt like all the time; constantly bored and mind jumping from topic to topic like one of those freaky Mexican jumping beans. If it hadn't been for customs, I would've brought one of those back home from America.

Something feathery and smug caught my eye. I watched as Talon landed on the fence surrounding the cemetery to our right. It seemed even the bird was in on this. I looked back at the speaker. Was he really still talking? I contemplated shooting him with my bow just to get him to shut up, but then immediately regretted it. I didn't know if this man was with the Templars. He could simply be an innocent priest in all this. And the third part of the code demanded the protection of innocents. Even if he was incredibly boring.

Finally, he seemed to be wrapping up his eulogy. I could sense the crowd getting slightly uneasy, either from standing around for so long, because they could sense something was about to go down, I couldn't tell.

"…but Brothers, the man who killed Majd Addin stands amongst us," the speaker announced, suddenly changing his tone. He pointed directly at us, and the crowd quickly shuffled out of the way.  
"Let God's retribution be sought!"

I glanced at Altair, "Was that supposed to happen?"

"No," he grunted, taking a position and drawing his sword.

Out of nowhere (although obviously they had come from _somewhere_), ten terrifyingly pissed off Templar Nights walked out from the crowd and circle. Innocent crowd members quickly fed out through the exit. They were probably in on the whole thing, the bastards. Altair flipped the sword in his hand in anticipation, waiting for someone to make the first move. Choosing to take a defensive position behind the headstone (not hiding, at all), I quickly summed up our chances. They weren't good.

I was surprised to see Robert amongst the knights. For some reason, I had expected him to be more the type of leader that stands back and lets the pawns do all the dirty work, watching from the sidelines. Perhaps I had underestimated him. The helmeted man himself lashed out, bringing his sword down on the headstone. I jumped back immediately, hitting my head against the stone wall behind me. But no time to wince, as a knight from the side jumped forward swung at me. Just in time, Altair stepped in between us and sliced the knight along his exposed side. The man stumbled back, clutching his injuries. But Altair's heroism left him exposed to the knight jumping at him from his right. A bundle of feathers and claws flew down and slashed at the attacker, going for his eyes. I guess Talon was useful afterall.

Using the distraction, I got to my feet and pulled my bow off my shoulder. It was probably too close a range to attempt to shoot anyone, but it would make a great hitting-stick for now.  
Another knight stepped forward. I yelped. Altair, who thankfully wasn't half the coward I was, stepped forward again, tripping him up and impaling him on his sword. The man went down, coughing up blood. The first fatality.

The man who had tried to attack me before was bleeding profusely, but gosh darnnit, he was determined to keep fighting. His face looked pale and his eyes bloodshot, probably from the pain. As Altair jumped out the way to counter another attacker, I stepped up and brought down hard my bow on the man's shoulder. He crumpled like a house of cards. I stabbed his chest with the sharp tip of the bow, probably crushing his sternum more than anything else. Surprisingly, my unorthodox attack seemed to work. There was no getting up from that.

I looked up to see two fresh corpses at Altair's feet. He glared challengingly at the remaining five men and Robert. Talon's victim was still running back and forth in the background comically, trying to shoo the bird away with flailing arms. All the men, whose eyes could be seen, looked notably startled. They hadn't been prepared for this in training. Surely Altair must've seemed like some sort of White Devil, striking with the speed of a sand-storm, with blades as sharp as-

The nearest knight jumped forward with his sword while I was narrating. On reflex, I ducked and blocked him with the bow, before thrusting the tip of the bow into his stomach. He grunted and went down. The bow was proving more and more useful by the second.

Taking a moment to check on Altair again, I saw he was busy in a three-on-one fight, exchanging thrusts and blows. Despite being outnumbered, he strategically took down the remaining men, one-by-one. In what paradoxically seemed like an eternity, yet faster than a blink of an eye at the same time, the men were slain. The man I had winded tried to grab my boot from his pathetic position on the ground, but I kicked him away, causing him to fall back and hit his head on a headstone. The consequent pool of blood indicated it was probably fatal.

Talon cawed triumphantly as he picked off slivers of flesh from his kill, tossing them into the air and snapping them up in his razor-sharp beak.

"Your men are all dead, Robert," Altair pointed out the obvious in a dramatic fashion, "Tell me what I want to know."

The helmeted man remained firm in his defensive stance. He brought up his sword challengingly. I stepped back behind the headstone, deciding to let Altair take care of this one, although stringing an arrow just in case.

The assassin stepped in to attack, bring his sword down and swinging it around. Robert blocked and countered attack, slicing Altair on his thigh. Without missing a beat, Altair beat him back, his hits increasing in speed and ferocity. Robert was pushed back onto the tomb. He tried to fight back, but Altair had worked too hard and for too long to hesitate now. He knocked back several more times, before knocking the sword from Robert's hand. Altair held his sword up against Robert's neck. In one swift movement, he flicked the helmet off.

What happened next was completely unexpected. Except, of course, for anyone who had read up this far in any of the walkthroughs.

Instead of the fierce bald man, Altair stood over a young, equally fierce, woman.

The assassin visibly hesitated, "…you are not Robert."

"Unless he's had a sex change," I muttered.

"Did you really expect Robert to be here?" She hissed.

"Where is he?" Altair remanded.

"The Templars knew of your mission. Especially since you made it so painfully obvious," she continued, ignoring his question.

"He _will_ pay for his crimes," Altair replied, "I will see to it."

"You will be stopped long before you reach him," she spat, the hint of somesort of native tongue slipping though, "It's pure luck an assassin as sloppy as you made it this far."

I saw Altair edge the blade closer to her neck. That hit a nerve, "Where is Robert?" he repeated, failing to keep his anger hidden, "Tell me now!"

"Make me!" the woman challenged.

I could see this is getting out of hand. I hopped over the headstone, "Altair, she's not going to tell you. Just give it up. I'm sure whatever happened, Malik knows something about it by now."

Altair continued to glare angrily at the woman.

"Altair?" I tugged his sleeve.

He finally glanced at me, "What?"

"I can hear guards approaching." This was true. The distant sound of screams and angry guards had indeed been increasing since the end of the battle.

Hesitantly, Altair pulled away. He re-sheathed his sword.

The woman seemed slightly stunned. "So you're not going to kill me?"

"You're not my target," Altair said bluntly. I'd never been more proud of him than at that moment.

From the look on her face, it seemed as if she hadn't really planned on this happening. Altair glanced back at me, "Come on. The guards will be on red alert after an attack like this. We have to get back to the bureau as soon as possible."

I shouldered my bow, "Ready when you are."

Altair ran out of the graveyard and quickly scaled a nearby ladder up to the rooftops. I took one last look at the woman, "um, kudos on being what I assume is the first female Templar."

She looked more confused than anything.

I smiled quickly before running after the assassin.

* * *

Malik's expression went from concerned, to confused, to baffled within the space of 5 minutes. "…A woman?"

Altair nodded.

"Do you know who she was?" Malik continued.

"No idea." Altair shrugged.

"She seemed too pretty to be a Templar," I added ever so helpfully.

Malik glanced at me questioningly.

I shrugged, "Every Templar I've seen has been pretty ugly. I assumed it was a thing."

"Stop talking nonsense!" Malik demanded.

I held my hands up defensively, "Fine. Sorry. By all means, continue."

"…anyway," Altair continued, "What do you think all this could mean? Did Al Mualim know Robert was not going to be there?"

"Possibly," Malik shrugged, "I'm not sure what to think anymore. I've never been given false information before. It's possible that the Templars indeed found out about our plan somehow."

"But how?" Altair replied, "We were so careful not to leave a trail."

I couldn't believe this. "Are you two freaking serious? You don't think a series of bodies of elite Templars isn't a big enough trail?"

"…No?" Altair replied uncertainly.

"Of course it is! It's completely obvious. I'm not surprised at all that Robert sent a decoy to the funeral. If I were him, I'd be holed up in a secret underground base, with a 100-strong guard patrolling the area 24/7!" I exclaimed, "He's not an idiot, it wouldn't've taken much to realise you were coming for him."

Malik was the first to speak, "…not she mentions it, I guess our plan *did* seem pretty obvious…"

"No kidding!" Really, and these guys are top master assassins?

"What do we do next then?" Altair asked, "Since you seem to have all the answers?"

And here my reign of superiority ends. "…I dunno. Find out where he's really hiding?"

"We had no clues to where that is, let alone time to find any," Malik replied.

"…I guess we're stuck then," I sighed. And so close to ending this fiasco and getting me home…

After a while, Malik spoke up, "I suppose we could try going to Masaf. Al Mualim may know what to do."

"You still think we can trust him after all this?" I asked, not convinced.

"I don't know what else there is to do…" he admitted.

After another awkward silence, Altair spoke, "What about King Richard? Surely we have enough evidence of the Templar's deception to bring this to him. He may be able to do something."

Malik mulled it over, "That could work. If you can fight your way through to Asuf. You will not be welcomed there with open arms."

"It's the best chance we have," Altair replied.

Malik nodded, "ok then. You ride to Asuf, and I will go to Masaf. I need to get out of Jerusalem, and maybe I can find out more of what's happening from my sources there."

"Good idea."

I wasn't so sure. "I'm not so sure about this, guys," I spoke up.

"It's the only option we have," Altair shrugged, "You don't have to come to Asuf. It will likely be more dangerous than what you've experienced before. You're free to go with Malik if you want."

Malik seemed to protest but was silenced by a gesture from Altair.

"…I'll go with you," I told the assassin, "King Richard's men may be less enthusiastic to attack if they see you're with a girl."

Altair nodded, "A ridiculous notion, but everything else has been so ridiculous so far, it just might work."

* * *

**And this brings us to the end of yet another chapter. Sorry for the major delay. 3****rd**** year uni is turning out to be more time consuming that first expected. But we still have holidays. Huzzah. **

**And if you thought there was any innuendo in this chapter…well, there probably was. Call it Shakespeare's influence. And my inability to write fight scenes properly. Lol**

**Hope you enjoyed it (if you did, review :D), and I hope you'll stick around to join me for the next chapter. Things get increasingly not-quite-the-same-as-the-game from here on out, so stay tuned. **

**Until next time…**


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The road to Asuf was dusty and uneven. I was really starting to miss the flattened asphalt from home. We were back on the horses, having learned to no longer rely on the Animus to cut travel times since it had become strangely absent as of late. Not that I minded too much. I got so few chances to ride a real horse for free in my world. And Biscuit was awesome.

I glanced over at Altair. "So…what are you going to do when we get to Asuf?" I asked.

He grunted in reply, which probably had more to do with the fact we had just started to ascend a hill and his horse had tilted the saddle up sharply. "…find King Richard," he managed eventually, trying to resettle in the saddle in a more comfortable position, "Kill Robert."

It wasn't exactly the most eloquent of plans, but at least it was straightforward. Or at least it was in this over-simplified explanation.

I watched boredly at the passing scenery. It looked as though we'd been passing through the same patch of desert for the past hour. How did anyone travel without an Ipod loaded with every season of Sex and the City?

We were passing through a small valley, with mountainous walls shooting up into the sky either side of us. The mountains were just as sandy and shrub-filled as the desert that surrounded them, although more rocky. And one mountain had a strange black rock, shaped like a person- wait a sec…

I nudged the assassin, "Look up there!" I pointed to the strange figure.

His eyes glazed over in Eagle vision. "It's a spy."

"An enemy spy?" I ventured.

"Yes," he replied, "Give me your bow."

I shrugged it off and handed it over.

"…and an arrow," he replied, one awkward pause later.

"Of course," I replied, passing him one.

Altair strung the bow, and aimed carefully. In an attempt that would've been far beyond my capabilities, he managed to shoot the figure in what I guessed was his shoulder. The figure fell back, disappearing from our view.

"What now?" I asked, "Do we try to find him?"

"No," the assassin replied, shouldering the bow and gripping the reigns, "now we run."

With barely any encouragement required, Biscuit dashed off after him.

Managing to bring my horse up next to them, I yelled out, "Why are we running?"

It was a pointless question really, as moments later we were rained upon by hundreds of black arrows. Altair spurred the horses faster. I was lucky that Biscuit didn't need any guidance, as I craned my neck back to watch as the terrifying wave of death followed, skewering the dust we had kicked up half a second before. One arrow shot through Biscuits' tail, of which I was incredibly thankful was only hair. I kicked his flanks with my heels to speed him up. He didn't need much encouragement.

"Altair!" I called fervently, "What now?"

"Follow me," he muttered quickly. We dodged the boulders and shrubs of the valley a while more before breaking through into a clearing of open desert. I took the chance to look back at our pursuers. A small but imposing army or about a hundred mounted men poured out down the mountain side.

My fear somehow translated to Biscuit, who sped up considerably, darting ahead of Altair. His horse spurred forward to match me.

"Don't panic!" he yelled, his voice getting harder to hear over the sound of hundreds of trampling hooves.

"Don't panic?" I replied indignantly, "There's about a thousand archers chasing us through an open desert. I think this is the perfect time to panic!"

"Just stay close, I have a plan." Altair kicked his horse faster, running in front of me. He gave no further indication as to what this plan was or when it was supposed to start. Comforting.  
I kept imagining that this would be the best time for something else to appear, like a giant sandworm or ferocious dragon. It would just be our luck that the situation would jump from "holy shit" to "fuckkity fuck shit tables" at this moment.

And of course something did, because it's just like a video game to round-house kick you in the balls (or lady parts) when you're down. Stupid pixels.

A large ominous canyon opened up before us as we sped over a hill. Altair showed no sign of slowing.  
"Altair! What are we going to do about the great hulking hole in front of us?" I yelled, getting uncomfortable as the wave of arrows started reaching my peripherals.

He said nothing, his horse still running. If I hadn't been desperately holding on to Biscuit, I would've thrown something at him. But I was struggling to maintain rhythm with Biscuit's galloping, and now I was bouncing on the saddle violently like a paint can in one of those shaker things at the hardware store. At least if I fell off now, I would probably die instantly, I reasoned. Better than bleeding out from numerous arrow wounds.

Just as I was about to protest some more, Altair turned sharply, jumping down a small cliff. Biscuit followed without my instruction. Next we headed for the canyon before us, and just as I thought we were dramatically jumping to our dooms, a bridge appeared. I didn't have time to worry about how rickety or thin it looked, as the next thing I knew, I was half way across. The rope bridge bounced wildly as our horses galloped along. I held onto my horse for dear life. I knew that if I let go for even a moment, I'd be gone.

I opened my eyes (not even remembering having closed them) to see Altair slowing down. As soon as I was free of the bridge, he threw a knife at each of the rope supports. The bridge fell away from the cliff edge and the army on our tails pulled their horses to a sharp stop. Not all of them made it. I watched as a few members slipped and fell into the murky depths below.

"What now?" I finally asked Altair.

"Now it's a matter of getting to Richard before those scouts and the army find the detour." He replied.

"Where's the detour?" I asked.

"Down through the canyon."

I sighed in relief; finally, some luck.

"But we're not in the clear yet." Altair brought me back to reality...or, game reality.

"What's next? A murderous giant? supernatural sandstorm? Dragons?" Maybe if there were dragons, we could hitch a ride on the back of one. It had to be more comfortable than horses.

"No, I just meant we should ride double time to make it there by sun down. We don't have any supplies to spend the night and it's going to be a cold one." He said finally.

"Oh...well, we could always make a fire." I suggested.

"No. A fire would be spotted by enemies. We have to camouflage ourselves."

"...do we have time to build a tepee?"

"A what?"

"Like a tent thing with a hole in the top so there can be a fire set up inside."

"No, I don't think we do."

"oh...so double time then?"

"Yes, double time." And with that, Altair flicked his reigns and gently kicked the flanks of his horse, galloping off once more.

* * *

As we rode into Asuf, I couldn't shake the feeling we were being watched. I pointed this out to my companion.

"Shush," he shushed me, "they can hear you."

"Who can hear me?" I whispered loudly. My question was answered as man clad in black armour stepped into our path. I glanced at Altair worriedly.

Altair studied the knight for a moment, before speaking up. "We've come to see King Richard."

The knight replied in an echoy, detached voice, "I see you have passed the Seven Tests of Worthiness."

"What tests?" I asked.

"That epic battle we just fought before? After crossing the canyon?" Altair replied.

"...battle?"

"The one where we faced like 300 soldiers." He continued, "You were cutting them down like they were made of cheese."

"Oooooh, that epic battle that was so epic that it could never be properly explained in words. Where we transcended from mere mortals into warrior gods for those few magical minutes, and left no enemy standing." I nodded, remembering the life-changing battle that I'll never forget.

"Indeed," the Knight added, "My spies tell me it was quite an amazing feat. And even though that was technically only the first test, you completed it so splendidly, that we automatically passed you for all the rest."

"...damn, if only school worked like that." I remarked.

"So will you let us pass to King Richard now?" Altair asked.

"Yes, we will let you pass the final stages to see the King. I'm sure he eagerly awaits and audience with warriors such as yourselves." The knight walked away dramatically, behind and bush and proceeded to duck, pretending we weren't there.

I exchanged glances with Altair and pushed forward. "Strange man," I muttered.

"Shush, he's letting us pass," Altair muttered back.

"Do you remember a battle?" I asked him.

"Nope. You?"

"Of course not." I sighed in relief, "Just making sure I wasn't going crazy."

"Impossible. You already are crazy." He replied with a smirk.

"Hardy ha ha," I replied sarcastically.

* * *

King Richard the Lionheart (of which I had only previously seen him in Lion-form) stood regally outside the small fortress he and his army were occupying, chatting to one of his generals.

He didn't notice as we approached. "...and then I said, 'John, let the man go. So what if he's stealing your golden hubcaps or taking one measly chest of money? He's good for the morale of the people, and as I always say, you can't have a kingdom without happy people'. So he let the young thief go back to his little band of followers in the woods," He told the general, "I hope he causes more trouble for John. He's always been a snivelling git, ever since we were kids. I'd like to get this blasted war over as soon as possible so I can take back my throne and send John to some tiny remote town on the edge of the kingdom where I'll never have to see him again." The king laughed boisterously.

"Good idea, sire." The general replied.

"Your highness," Altair bowed in front of the king. I followed suit.

"Ah, I know you. You're that assassin, aren't you? The one who was in the Temple." Richard searched his memories for a name.

"There were several of us in that temple," Altair replied.

"I'd assume you're not the one who died or lost an arm."

"...yes, I am that assassin."

"Well, It's nice to finally meet you. You have quite a colourful reputation, causing all sorts of excitement in Jerusalem and Damascus and Acre, It seems every day my viscount would be informing me of some calamity or so you've caused. Killing eight nobles in a matter of weeks, and considering the level of security, quite an impressive feat all and all." The king beamed gleefully.

Altair and I exchanged confused glances. I hadn't expected him to be...like this. "uh…thanks?" Altair offered.

At that moment, Robert came running up to the group. "Sire!"

"Yes Robert?" the king asked calmly.

"You've caught him!" he announced.

"Caught who?"

"The assassin!"

"I have?"

"He's standing right there!" Robert pointed at Altair aggressively.

King Richard glanced at us. "Oh right. Although he doesn't have demon horns or three heads like the rumours claim. And I highly doubt he can breathe fire." He said reasonably, "Can you spout flames from your nostrils, boy?"

Altair shot me a confused look, "…no, your highness."

"Didn't think so."

"But sire! He's responsible for the murder of countless of our people! He's a rampaging madman who needs to be stopped!" Robert declared.

"That's not true! You're a lying conspirator who's trying to take over the world!" I retaliated.

Richard raised an eyebrow. "That's quite an accusation."

"Are you really going to listen to this- this…girl? Who even is she?" Robert spluttered.

"Sire," Altair interjected, "What she says is true. The nobles I killed were cruel dictators who had taken advantage of their positions and caused the suffering of the people. They were working under Robert's orders to sabotage your efforts!"

Robert was fuming, "Sire, surely you cannot believe these lies-"

"Enough!" The king roared. "Robert, you have been a loyal follower for a number of years, but the Brotherhood is not known for wanton murder. Perhaps there is some truth to this man's words."

"But your highness-"

"But of course, I cannot simply drop everything and listen to a man who has admittedly caused a lot of seemingly unprovoked and unjustified chaos." Richard continued.

I could see the knights starting to surround us, just waiting for the word to kill us there on the spot. I moved closer to Altair and took his hand, more fearful for my life than I had been up until that point.

"In light of the circumstances, I believe it may be best to see though whom the Almighty is really working." The King nodded to his men to step back. "Robert, Assassin, since you are so directly at odds with one another here, I declare an immediate fight to the death. Whichever man is left standing truly has the Lord on his side, and will have my attention."

I squeezed Altair's hand, "That's not fair! We've spend all day fighting our way to get here!"

The king glanced at me challengingly, "Do you dare question my ruling, girl?"

"Please forgive her, your highness." Altair said quickly, "She's simple."

"Hey!"

"I agree to the terms, your highness," Robert said, like a teacher's pet rushing to compliment him on his haircut in the hopes of a higher grade.

"As do I." Altair pulled his arm away from me and stepped forward.

"Excellent. A classic duel it is." The king mused cheerily, "Everyone clear the circle. You may begin at my word."

The knights moved to form a wide circle around us. I glanced worriedly at Altair. He nodded solemnly, and I walked back, standing just outside the knight-circle, making sure I had a clear view.

A man ran up and handed Robert his signature helmet. The Templar readjusted his gauntlets and drew his sword. Altair resecured his belt and drew his own long sword. The men stood at opposite ends, standing in a ready stance.

King Richard cleared his throat. "Ok men, are you ready? Yes? Good. Begin!"

* * *

**A/N: Yep, I know it's been like forever. In other news, I'm officially an Animal Scientist. I've got a nice little BSc next to my title. And now I'm on holidays awaiting the commencement of the second part of my double degree (yes I'm calling it a double degree). Goodbye prac reports discussing sheep growth rates and hello essays analysing Shakespeare. **

**Yes I ended on a cliff hanger….cos I'm a bitch like that. I hope this chapter was as good as you guys (my awesome amazing loyal readers) expected. And if you're new to the game, Hi! Nice to see I'm still attracting new people. **

**As always, thanks so much for the reviews! They really mean so much to me. In fact, I was only reminded to update this now due to some out-of-the-blue reviews. If you keep them coming, I'll be sure to try and finish this story before Uni starts again in March. We've got a good few chapters left, I estimate….**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, and hopefully I'll see you next chapter :D**


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

The sun glinted menacingly from Robert's sword. He brought it up and rushed forward, making the first move. Altair dodged and counted, knocking his sword back. The two men parried and thrusted, back and forth, for a while. I felt useless standing on the sidelines. During the fight, Robert's men had joined the throng, standing amongst King Richards' knights. The king himself watched on, sitting upon a large portable throne, being held up by a couple of servants. A third servant girl fed him purple grapes as he was fanned by a fourth. I hadn't even seen them appear.

I reflected upon how increasingly silly this game was becoming. It wouldn't surprise me if the final battle involved several trained monkeys dressed as clowns, throwing rubber chickens. Was my presence really disrupting the programming that much, or was this the big twist the people on the forums kept talking about?

Altair was still battling the helmeted Templar. They seemed to be exchanging blows with equal capability. Neither was gaining any advantage; Altair had met his match. Robert wasn't a fat bloated noble; he was a lean, agile fighter, born on the battlefield and as ferocious as a jungle cat. The winner would surely be declared so by a thin margin. Or they'd both be killed simultaneously. Ubisoft probably would be that ironic to have the main hero sacrifice himself to save the day. I always hated when writers decided to do that. It was so wasteful. Spike Spiegal would one day be avenged.

I was beginning to grow bored. Not that I wasn't worried for Altair's life, or my own that was surely forfeit in the event that he was defeated, but I was never very good at being a spectator. Hence why I refused to ever watch my brother play football. Or basketball. Or cricket. Or any of the other many sports that overachieving athlete played. Although none of those events had been life-threatening. With a quick flick of his wrist, Altair's sword flew out of his hand and landed on the far side of the ring. Robert lunged forward, with what I imagined was a smug look on his hidden face. Altair dodged the thrust, which surely would've speared him. But without a weapon, Altair was done for. Robert's attacks were relentless and he wasn't giving the assassin any opportunity to re-arm himself. Altair backed away further, trying to buy some time. As he reached the edge of the circle, two of Robert's men grabbed his arms, holding him back. This wasn't meant to happen; that's cheating!

I glanced at King Richard for any help, but he was too busy gorging himself on fruit to realise what was happening. Robert brought his sword up, about to make the final blow. I couldn't just stand there. Roberts men had interfered first, now it was my turn. I reached into my pockets, searching for a throwing knife or something. Closing my hand around the first metallic thing I could find, I pushed my way through the knights, into the circle.

'Hey, tin can!' I yelled at Robert, before throwing my projectile. The metallic and fluffy handcuffs hit Robert's helmet with a loud clang. The Templar stumbled back, clutching his head. That fatal flaw of bell-like helmet must have been instrumental in Ned Kelly's downfall. Altair saw his opening and pulled away from the grips of his captors, jumping forward, flicking out his hidden blade and pushing it into Robert's throat as they fell back to the ground. Robert gurgled, and Altair pushed off his helmet with his free hand. The two men shimmered momentarily, and the last-words-cut-scene began.

The assassin lowered Robert to the ground, withdrawing his hidden blade from his throat. 'It's done then. Your schemes, like you, are put to rest.'

The Templar chuckled, an effect spoiled by the amount of blood gushing from his throat. Yet he could still talk. 'You know nothing of schemes, Assassin. You are but a puppet. He betrayed you, boy, just as he has betrayed me.'

Altair furrowed his brow. 'Speak sense, Templar, or not at all!'

Robert coughed, spluttering blood, but not quite as much as you'd expect from that severe a wound. 'Nine men-' he coughed once more, 'Nine men he sent you to kill, yes? The nine men who guarded the treasures' secret.'

Altair blinked back emotionlessly. 'What of it?'

'It wasn't nine who found the treasure, assassin.' Roberts voice became continually raspy. 'Not nine, but ten.'

The assassin seemed taken aback. 'A tenth? None may live who carry the secret! Give me his name, Templar!' he clenched the dying man's shirt.

Even drenched in his own blood, Robert managed to look smug. 'Oh, but you know him well. And I doubt very much you will take his life willingly as you have taken mine.'

'Who?' Altair demanded impatiently.

Robert managed to chuckle, a remarkable feat given his present state. 'Your master, Al Mualim.' He coughed, which really failed to sell the whole "dying" thing, 'Or should I say, puppet-master.'

'But he's not a Templar.'

'Did you never wonder how it is he knew so much, where to find us, how many we number?' Robert seemed to miraculously regain his theatrical voice, 'What we _aspire_ to _achieve_?'

'He is the Master of the Assassins.' Altair pointed out obviously.

Robert let out a boisterous laugh (again, amazing) 'Yes, the Master of Lies. You and I just two more pawns in his grand game. And now, with my death, only you remain. Do you think he'll let you live? Knowing what you know?'

I noticed Altair grit his teeth. 'I have no interest in the treasure.'

'Ah, but _he_ does.' Robert replied, 'the only difference between your master and I is that he does not want to share.'

I almost laughed out loud at that one (not a smart move considering I was stuck between two armed Templars). Robert was about as willing to share the Piece of Eden as much as a fat child is willing to share a twinkie. Altair brought me back to the present events. 'No!' he stated in disbelief.

Robert smirked. 'Ironic, isn't it? That I, your greatest enemy, kept you safe from harm. But now you've taken my life, and in the process, ended your own.

'I've had enough of this,' Altair said with malice before twisting the Templar's head, snapping his neck. At the sickening crack, the surrounding Templars leapt into action.

Agile as a mountain cat, the assassin fended off the knights viciously. Luckily none of them had noticed me (or if they did, they didn't care I was there), allowing me to sneak in at the back of the crowd and hack at their shins with a stick. But there were too many knights and I couldn't see Altair anymore. I called out his name, but it didn't help.

Suddenly, the fighting stopped. I feared the worst, but as the knights backed away, I saw Altair hunched over, trying to stand. I rushed over to help him, before realising what had happened.

'None of this fighting will solve anything.' Richard's voice boomed, his hands holding the still-vibrating gong I hadn't heard go off. 'Templars, you have minutes to leave this place now before my men will dispatch you.'

To my surprise, the knights complied, not daring to defy the king. Altair clasped a bloody hand on my shoulder as he pulled himself to his feet. There was a deep wound on his shoulder and a nasty looking cut on his side, but he only glanced at me with steely determination; even the pain not enough to overpower the information he had learned.

'It seems we have both been deceived, assassin.' Richard announced, stepping off his throne and walking over.

Altair bowed his head, unable to kneel before his king. 'Al Mualim will not get away with this.'

'I can trust you to handle this quietly?' The king asked, 'Public knowledge of the details of this incident will surely cause panic and more questions. All knowledge of the treasure must be kept only between those who need to know.'

The assassin nodded, 'I understand. I will stop Al Mualim and retrieve the treasure with the upmost subtlety.'

The king looked away wistfully. 'It's ironic, isn't it? All this fighting in the name of peace. But peace won through battle isn't true peace. Just the downtime between war.'

'But humans have always known war. And we always will.' Altair replied, his voice becoming strained.

The king nodded, 'Perhaps. Or perhaps one day we will know true peace.'

'Um, Sir?' I piped up.

He glanced at me as if it was the first time he realised I was there. 'Yes dear?'

'Could we get like some bandages or something? He's sort of bleeding all over me.' I gestured at my now red shoulder.

'Oh, right. Sorry. Forgive an old man for being sentimental.' He chuckled. At a click of his fingers, two medical officers rushed over (as indicated by the big red crosses painted onto their armour…in what I hoped was red paint). They led Altair away to a tent where they removed his outer robes and patched up his injuries. I stood to the side, watching with concern. It was the first time I had seen him really injured in the whole game. Aside from the impossible time stop-y cut-scene before, this world might as well have been real.

'Stop looking at me like that.' Altair grunted as the medic strapped up his shoulder in the linen bandage.

'Like what?' I replied innocently.

'Like I'm going to die. It's not very reassuring.'

I crossed my arms. 'I'm sorry. But I'm starting to think it's a real possibility.'

'You think I won't be able to defeat Al Mualim.'

I almost jumped at his verbalisation of my exact thoughts. 'Well, he's got the Piece of Eden and he's a scary man.'

'That doesn't mean he's infallible.'

'No. But now you're weak and injured, and he's still got the damn Piece of Eden!' I pointed out, 'Plus he's got the upper-hand because he's been playing you all this time. He probably expected that you'd defeat Robert and has a whole host of other plans in place to stop you.'

'Are you always this negative?'

'Can't you be serious?'

Altair smirked. 'What are you smiling about now?' I demanded.

'I'm just thinking about how ironic it is that you're the serious one now,' he replied.

Their jobs done, the medics packed up their equipment and left the tent without a word. 'What are we supposed to do?' I asked, determined to remain on topic.

The assassin sighed and lay back on the cot wearily. 'Right now, I'm going to have a nap. But you can stay up and think of a plan if you wish. I'll come up with a better one when I wake up.'

Rolling my eyes, I left the tent, muttering "ass" loud enough for him to hear. Whether his sudden personality change was brought on by his recent brush with death or simply the realisation that everything he had ever been told was a lie, I couldn't be sure. But whatever happened next, I was sure it was going to be memorable.

* * *

_A/n: Hey guys. Wow, it's been a while since I last updates. I'm so sorry for delay. I really hate this update-every-6-months funk I've gotten into. Life has been busy with uni and such. I'm doing a bachelor of creative writing now :) also been working on some original stuff, since ultimately I want to get paid for the things I write. And unlike the chick who wrote 50 Shades of Grey, I don't think I could get away with changing the names of my characters in my twilight fanfic (lol as if I'd have a twilight fanfic. I'm not 15 anymore). _

_If the dialogue in the middle sounded familiar, that's because I used Altair's actual cut-scene exchange with Robert. Cheating? Perhaps, but I felt it was important to use the original dialogue (for a reason I've forgotten by now. Woops. There was a reason at the time.) I promise next chapter will only get more exciting._

_Anyway, I'm on holidays now for the next 4 weeks, so let's see if I can finish this fic once and for all. Getting reviews over the past few months was the only thing that reminded me this still existed, so if you want more chapters, send me a review and remind me to not forget! See you soon.  
- Tigercub684_


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

We were on the road again. Altair had insisted that we keep a steady pace on horseback to Masyaf. He had awakened from his nap in much the same mood as he had going in. His overly casual demeanour was unsettling, coming from the man who I had gotten used to being so focused and serious all the time. I glanced at the assassin riding next to me. His robes were only loosely draped over his shoulders with one arm in a sling to stop his bad shoulder from moving around and reopening the wound. His middle was also wrapped up with a wad of bandage over his torso wound. Richard's medics had come in again later and sewed up the wounds in what I considered to be an impressive display of ancient medical technology. Altair's eyes were still red from the opium they had given him to numb the pain. I questioned the decision to head off after Al Mualim with Altair in such a state, but he had replied that if we waited too long Al Mualim might flee from Masyaf and make it harder to find him again.

'Stop that.' Altair said suddenly.

'Stop what?'

'You're being negative again.'

'I'm not even saying anything.'

'You're thinking it. I can feel it.'

I rolled my eyes. 'You're being ridiculous.'

'No, you are.'

'You're still high on poppy. We should've stayed back there for a day or two until you recovered more.'

'I'm fine.' Altair maintained.

'You can't even lift a sword.'

'I'm fine.' He repeated.

'I had to tie you to the saddle so you wouldn't fall off!'

Seemingly unable to think of a response, he remained quiet. I was really missing the convenience of the auto-restoring health bar right about now. But virtually every aspect that had made this world a game had seemingly vanished. I was really starting to question if I'd ever be able to leave. And a small part of me was almost happy about that.

The caw of desert birds was nothing new as we travelled along the dirt road, but having a small eagle land on Altair's shoulder was. It wasn't Talon, but a more streamlined kestrel type creature with a scroll tied around its leg. The assassin brought up his good hand and pulled at the bow holding it together, but it to no avail; it was double-knotted. Without a word, I drew my horse closer and carefully reached over, untying the string and taking off the note. Unfurling the small paper, I frowned.

'What does it say?' Altair asked, watching me.

'No idea. I don't read Latin.' I held it in front of his face. Even the automatic language translation was going. Next I'd stop being able to understand what he was saying.

Altair squinted at the page as it shook from the movement of the horses. 'It's from Malik.'

'What's it say?'

'He says to meet him in the small courtyard by the big tree when we get to Masyaf.' He stashed the note in a pocket.

'Big tree? That's it?'

Altair nodded. 'I know what tree he's talking about.'

'I had no idea you were such an arboreal expert.'

'What?'

I shook my head. 'I just hope you're right about this.'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'I don't know. I have a bad feeling. Like we're walking into a trap.'

'Oh, more than likely we are. It's just a matter of being ready for it.' He replied casually. 'Once we get to the fortress, Al Mualim will surely be waiting for us.'

'And Malik will be able to help us with that?'

'There's a back entrance that we used to play in as boys. An ancient tunnel that doesn't appear on any maps. We'll probably go in through there.' He replied, pulling out a calf-skin flask from the saddle bags and opening the top. He held up the flask but only a few drops of water fell out. 'Do you have any water? I'm out.'

I fished out the water flash from my own saddle bags and handed it to him. It also turned out to be empty. 'Where did all the water go?' he asked.

'You drank it like two hours ago. Don't you remember?' I took the empty flask back.

'…uh, not really. My memory's bit fuzzy since we left this morning.' He admitted.

Ok, now I was really starting to get worried. 'Altair, I _really_ don't think we should go to Masyaf just yet. You're still getting over the poppy dust. I bet you don't even remember what we were just talking about.'

'I'm fine.' He insisted. 'I just need some water. I don't need a perfect memory to fight Al Mualim.'

'No, but a functioning one is probably useful.' I muttered. I couldn't shake the bad feeling, no matter how many times assured me we had the upper hand.

* * *

We rode on, despite my protests. As we rode through the tall open gates of Masyaf, I had the sudden urge to flee. But Altair continued on, unfazed by whatever invisible force that was affecting me. Dismounting, we walked into the city only to find it completely empty. Not a single townsperson or guard or even assassin could be seen. It was a ghost town. 'Altair, this is odd!' I pleaded.

'Water,' he said instead, rushing over to the well and rolling up the bucket. He drank straight from the wooden bucket, almost draining it before he finally pulled away for air. I didn't realise the drugs could make a person so dehydrated. Or maybe that was the desert heat, now that the animus was apparently more or less non-existent. Or a combination of both. He dropped the bucket back into the well, where it landed with a splash. I put a hand on his arm. 'You sure you're ok?'

'Stop asking me that.' He grunted, pulling up the bucket again. 'Do you want some?'

I glanced at the old wooden container that looked like it was splintering. 'Uh, no thanks. I'm good.'

He shrugged and drank some more. I began to see movement in my peripherals. Glancing around, I saw nothing but motionless ghost town. Perhaps I really was dehydrated. Or not. A figure appeared from behind a building. I tugged on Altair's arm. 'Over there!' I pointed. There were two of them now.

But he was too busy looking past me. Turning around, I saw three more men walk out. They all walked slowly, an effect which was much more terrifying than if they had run out, brandishing swords. They looked more like unstoppable zombies than people. Within moments, there were men approaching us from all angles. Many of them wore assassin robes. Brainwashed by Al Mualim, most likely. I glanced at my assassin for guidance. He looked suddenly pale and sweaty, and his pupils were scarily dilated. 'Altair! What's happening?'

I never got an answer. He collapsed, hitting the ground heavily. I glanced out at the crowd of enemies all staring at me intently. I wanted to cry.

Al Mualim stepped forward from the men. 'Ah, I've heard reports that an annoying pest has been tagging along with my favourite pawn.'

Most of the game antagonists didn't seem to recognise I existed, let alone address me directly. I was freaking terrified. '…Hi.' When in doubt, be polite.

'Shame you picked the wrong side to play for.' His eyes glinted fiercely.

'What-' And darkness.

* * *

I was suddenly aware of being conscious. It was dark, but I my head ached, so I knew I was awake. Feeling the sandy ground, I pushed myself up onto my elbows. Light was streaming in from the distance, in a line like as crack from under a door. Sitting up, I noticed a sack on the floor a few metres away from me. Upon further examination, I realised it was Altair. I rushed over, finding his chest and listening for a heartbeat. It was faint, but there. His skin was clammy and breathing barely audible. He was alive, but barely.

I sat back on my shins, trying to think. I'd always been meaning to take a first aid course, but something told me that even if I had, he was a bit beyond CPR…or was he? How hard could it be? I'd seen it done enough times on tv. I could totally do this.

Or was I just using this as an excuse to kiss him- Woah, where did that idea come from? I could feel myself blush. Why was that happening? Ok, that was stupid. This wasn't several days ago when I was still in awe of his well- built agile body- not helping. I pinched myself. Ow. Ok, saving the dying man. I could do this.

I moved Altair's head towards me, pushing his hood back. I pulled his jaw down, opening his mouth. Now I felt like some sort of sex predator. Was this even possible, as the girl and being at least five years younger? I shook my head and leaned down, putting my lips over his. I jumped back at the clamminess. It was like kissing a corpse. Yep, that killed any semblance of one-sided romance. My lips felt sticky, and on reflex, I licked them. They tasted weird. _He_ tasted weird. Sort of like almonds. When did he eat almonds?

Suddenly it clicked. He passed out after drinking all that water. In those lessons with Malik, there was that poison that tasted of almonds. Someone must have poisoned the well! This was bad! The poison would likely kill him, especially in his weakened state. And there was no way I could get him to a doctor while presumably captured. But of course, the entire point of Malik's lesson (wherein he and Altair poisoned me) was to learn that each poison had an antidote, and assassins carried pouches of both, just in case. I fished through my robes. The outer, more obvious pockets had been emptied, but luckily I had put my set of poison pouches in one of the hidden pockets in the lining. After several minutes of fishing, I pulled them out. The dim light made it hard to determine one colour from another, but I tried my best to arrange them in the Colour Wheel. Now, what did he say? Warm colours poisons, blue antidotes? That sounded about right. Warm colours were used in alarms. 'Code red!'. Yeah, definitely the poisons. And blue, had some of the same letters as cure- I shook my head. In my panic, I had lost all sense of logic. Oh well.

Now that I had decided which half of the sacks were which, how do I work out which of the three poisons Altair had ingested? It had tasted like almonds. Why was that familiar?

That night, when they poisoned me. I thought the stew had almond milk in it or something, but that must have been the poison. So he was suffering under Nightshade? What did Malik say about that? Something about Romeo and Juliet? No, but that was it. It induced a fake death.

Altair's current corpse-like state suddenly made a lot more sense now. I picked up the red pouch. I remember that being the one Malik pointed out. And the antidote? Shit, what colour was that? Colour wheel. I put the red one back, drawing a line to the pouch opposite. Of course, green.

I glanced around. There was a tray near the door. Crawling over, I found a bowl of some sort of stone-cold stew and stale bread, and a porcelain cup. I sniffed the contents of the cup. No odour. I sipped the tiniest amount. It was tasteless. Much like water. Well, it's not like I had any other options. I emptied the green pouch into the cup and swirled it around, mixing it as best as I could. If the water had been taken from the well, hopefully there would be enough antidote to counter it as well as still cure Altair.

Crawling back over, I got behind the assassin, lifting his head up and onto my lap to keep it at an angle. I pushed open his mouth again and poured in the concoction, rubbing his throat to induce the swallowing reflex, just like the vet had taught me to do when giving my cat worming pills. Thank you Dr Williams.

I felt his Adams apple moving as he swallowed. I continued until the cup was empty. Several painstakingly anxious moments later, he stirred. His eyes were the first to react, flickering open. His pupils had returned to normal size. '…what's happening?' his voice was dry and scratchy.

'You drank water from the well spiked with Nightshade, and then Al Mualim captured us.' I explained simply.

'What? How did all that happen?'

I shrugged. 'You'd taken a lot of poppy for the pain of your injuries.'

'Oh.' He sat up, removing his head from my lap. I crossed my legs, missing the warmth already. Wherever we were, it felt as cold as if we were underground.

He coughed momentarily. 'So this is some sort of dungeon?'

'Seems like it.'

'Have you seen anyone come in?'

I shook my head. 'I woke up and saw you, and that's it.'

'Wait, so you gave me the antidote?'

'Yeah…' dammit, I'd hoped he wouldn't ask too many questions about that.

He smirked. 'I told Malik the best way to teach you would be to poison your food.'

I rolled my eyes. 'You're going to make a great father one day. Your kids won't grow up to resent you _at all_.'

The assassin groggily got to his feet, staggering a bit. He tried the door, which was obviously locked. He searched his pockets before ripping into the lining of his sleeve and pulling out lockpicking tools. I walked up next to him. 'Handy.' I remarked.

Altair nodded. 'I've made modifications to the robes over the years. Ones Al Mualim doesn't know about.'

'Did you not trust him from the start either?'

'It was more that they were very strict on uniform policy. They got pretty pissed if we tried to alter out robes.' Moments later, the lock clicked open. 'Come on.' He nodded, 'Let's go.'

'Are you sure you're ok? I mean, first the injuries and then the poison…' And his idiocy getting us captured.

'I feel great. Better than I have in days. Now let's go before they realise they forgot to tie us up.'

Hesitantly, I followed. Something about this seemed too easy…

* * *

_**A/n: And that's it for another episode. I actually planned some of that so long ago, it feels great to have it finally written. Just a few chapters left, guys. I hope you're excited. I am. :)**_

_**Keep sending through reviews. If there's enough interest, I might be motivated enough to get out another chapter before the mid year holidays are over.**_


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

We made our way down a dark hallway lit with torches. We appeared to be underground. Altair indeed seemed back to his focused assassin-y self. 'Doesn't your shoulder hurt you?' I asked.

He sighed. 'No. It's fine. And if you ask one more question regarding my well-being, I swear I'll gag you.'

I thought back to the collection of sex toys which every assassin was allegedly issued, and wasn't sure whether to blush or be disgusted. I decided upon the latter. 'Ew.'

'Altair? Girl?' That voice was strangely familiar. I rushed forward to a door in the hall, finding eyes gazing out through the cracks.

'Malik?' Altair offered, joining me.

'It's you! How did you get out? I saw them drag you two in but I didn't think they'd let you live.' He remarked. His voice sounded tired and scratchy, as if he'd been locked in here for a several days.

'Al Mualim is arrogant enough he must want to save me for later.' Altair replied, taking his lock picking tools from his sleeve and working on Malik's lock.

'That sounds like him.' He agreed.

Moments later, the lock clicked and the door opened. It was touching to see Altair embrace his old friend, in an obviously manly way, but still. Moments of affection like this were few and far between. The two-armed assassin pulled away after a final back-pat. 'When you didn't show up at the meeting point, I feared you were dead.' Altair remarked.

'Meeting place?' Malik looked confused. 'I've been locked here since I arrived back here about a week ago.'

'Al Mualim.' Altair cursed. 'Of course he sent us the note signed in your name. How did we not see it was a trap?' This was all starting to become pretty predictable. But due to the sentient nature of the world, I suppose that could be blamed on Al Mualim's lack of creativity, not poor writing of the development team.

'So now we're going to storm the fortress and confront Al Mualim, who probably has some sort of ambush ready waiting for us, and since he's already captured us once, he's probably just going to gloat about how brilliant he is and kill us.' I summarised.

'…do you have any other ideas?' Altair replied, taken aback.

'Simple.' I replied, 'Yes, we just leave. Forget about all this and just go on and survive.'

Altair sighed, 'We can't. Al Mualim has the piece of Eden. If we leave now, who knows what he will do with it.'

'Well we know he's power hungry, so he will probably try to start some sort of new world order with him as the self-appointed leader.' Malik added.

'Exactly.' Altair agreed, 'And we can't let that happen.'

'But why us?' I continued.

Altair paused before he answered. 'Who else would do it?'

I had to give him that one. He was the protagonist on the box art, after all. '…higher authorities?'

'There are no higher authorities. Just us.' He replied simply. It was a scary thought. I was so used to my world, knowing that if there were any injustice, a safety net of trained professionals were there to deal with it and bring back order. But what happens when there are no reliable authorities to sweep in and arrest the bad guys? It was a question upon which all super hero fiction was probably based, which made us the superheros in this situation, sans the useful powers. At least I was with two properly trained assassins and not being thrown into fire pit on my own.

'I guess you're right.' I said finally, 'It's up to us.'

Malik turned to Altair. 'I overheard the guards mentioning Al Mualin is planning some sort of final push tonight, to finalise his plans. They described it as a kind of witchcraft. Once he succeeds, he'll be unstoppable.'

'Then we must stop him now.' Altair nodded.

'It's not going to be easy getting breaking into the fortress with so many traitor assassins roaming around.' He continued.

'They're not traitors. They were only following our leader. Many of them are too young to know different. We shouldn't begrudge them that.' Altair reminded him.

'That doesn't change the fact that they will still be obstacles.' Malik pointed out.

'I'll deal with them as they come.' Altair replied. 'Disarming will be a priority, but if they persist I will use due force.'

'Good.' Malik seemed satisfied with that answer.

A few more details were discussed while I stood back, getting overwhelmed with all the strategy talk. Even though our lives were on the line, I found it somewhat boring. Finally, they were done.

'Alright, so are you clear on the plan?' Altair asked me.

I nodded. 'Sure.'

'Excellent. Let's move out.' He nodded to Malik. We proceeded down the hall way, watching for guards but finding none. For prisoners, they didn't seem too concerned that we would escape. Perhaps they were overconfident in this prisons' ability to keep in its occupants; an oversight that was finally working in our favour.

At the end, we reached a hatch. Altair went first, climbing the wooden ladder and carefully lifting the hatch up slightly, listening for any activity. When he heard nothing, he lifted it fully, climbing out. We exited into what appeared to be a back room of some sort, a high window in the back wall opening to a picturesque view of the impending fortress looking down on us. We clung to the side wall as we heard footsteps coming from the other side of the door. The footsteps passed and Altair looked out around the corner. Gesturing it was clear, he slid out, indicating for us to follow. We were at the base of the hill. The town rising above us was empty, aside from a few stray Assassins trekking upwards. We ghosted behind them, sticking to the shadows of the afternoon, silently sneaking up the hill. We'd climbed on top of a building in the final line of houses before the fortress when we saw it. All the Assassins of the Brotherhood were gathered at the base of the fortress stairs, all murmuring and waiting as a team of apparent elites stood stoically at the top. After a few moments, the guards parted and Al Mualim stepped forward, addressing the crowd.

'Brothers, today is a momentous occasion.' He began. A few cheers rose from the crowd before being quietly shushed. 'For today we finally have the final piece in the puzzle, the last step in our plan, to finally end this feud with the Templars for good and bring peace to the world.'

There was a roar of cheering from the crowd this time, and with no one to shush them. Al Mualim had them captivated, brainwashed under his worship.

The Master Assassin waited for the crowd to calm down before pulling a golden orb from his robes.

'What's that?' I asked Altair quietly. Both him and Malik were staring at it intently.

'The treasure from the tomb.' Malik replied.

'The Apple of Eden.' Altair confirmed.

'How do you know what it is?' I asked, not recalling that name before. I looked back to Altair but he seemed transfixed on the apple, staring at it intently. '…Altair?'

He stood up dramatically. 'Lies. You're not bringing peace to the world, just domination.'

Al Mualin looked up, smiling smugly. 'Ah, the prodigal son returns. How nice of you to join us, Altair.'

There was a murmur from the crowd as Altair jumped down from the building and started walking over to him, parting the crowd like a hot knife through butter. I exchanged concerned glances with Malik. 'Should we stop him?'

'Shush.' He hushed quickly, watching Altair but also pulling out his sword, just in case.

'I have to say, I admire your bravery, coming back here after the way you betrayed the Brotherhood.' Al Mualim continued, to some disapproving hisses from the crowd.

'It is not I who has betrayed the Brotherhood.' Altair countered. Not exactly his best comeback. 'It was not I who ordered the death of nine men just to secure an artefact for my own agenda.'

'Was it not your blade that ended those lives?'

'"An assassin is merely the tool of the wielder"' Altair replied, 'Those are your words, no? The first principle every student is taught here? We are but weapons, not the architects.'

Al Mualim scowled. 'You are nothing but a rogue agent. Guards, arrest him!'

* * *

_Hey guys. I'm sorry this has been sooo delayed. It's a combination of reasons, really. Mostly general business with Uni and stuff. Also I got to a point in this chapter where I wasn't really sure where to go on, and that delayed me for a while. _

_In regards to a sequel some people were asking about, while I do have some potential ideas for it, at this point I really don't want to start something I won't be able to update frequently (anyone here still remember how often I used to update this one? Those were the good old days) since I don't think it's really fair on you guys to keep you waiting so long. And I've got a number of other projects I'm working on right now (A zoology blog on Tumblr, some original novels, and I'm trying to resurrect my comic on DeviantArt. Also I should probably try to get some more paid employment at some point. Money and all) so, yeah, sequel not likely. But if you like my work that much, you can follow me on Tumblr or DeviantArt (I'm TigerCub684 everywhere) and…yeah. Otherwise, thanks for sticking with me this far. Only a chapter or two to go, probably. I hope I don't take forever to write and upload them._

_Tigercub684_


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